Mary Alice, Full of Grace
by AsHisTreasured
Summary: Pre-Twilight: A twist of fate allows Alice to remember her childhood. A dark memory makes her reluctant to meet the violent man she sees in her visions. Can she open up enough to trust him? Or will they go on suffering alone? M for abuse, violence
1. Mary Alice

So... here it is! I hope you enjoy my little story, stick with it through the first few loops of genetics, they aren't as important as the story goes on :)

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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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I had been seeing him more frequently, recently. The violent man with the blond hair now invaded my vision more and more often and I couldn't help but feel a pull to him. I had no idea why, often my sixth sense showed him embroiled in brutal combat and I had the feeling that if I ever met him in real life I might fight the urge to run. I had never seen this man smile, or even look remotely content, but some of my recent visions gave me hope. If I was seeing him so regularly, I must be going to cross paths with him soon. My vision was beginning to show a flash, every once in a while, of him walking alone on a deserted street in the pouring rain, his countenance pensive, but not violent. I found something in his introspection that drew me, fascinated me. For my visions to be so consumed with him for months, he must destined to be important to me. At first, I'd been afraid. Important doesn't mean good, and I wasn't looking for any more trouble. But hard as I set my mind to, I couldn't convince myself that he meant me harm. He just looked so…lost. Somehow I knew that he belonged with me.

I remember when the visions had started. It was when I was young, barely past primary school. My father's old friend came from out of town and he'd fallen on hard times. My parents talked it over, they were very close those days, and decided he could stay with us until he got back on his feet. So my sister moved into my room and Charles moved in. For a while it was like a dream. My parents were always busy, my mother kept the house while my father toiled away at the shop and by the end of the day no one was really up for playing with my sister and I. But Charles was always around. He would take me on walks and we would pretend we were the king and princess of the town watching over our peasantry or stay inside playing house long into the afternoon. He didn't care much about my little sister, but that didn't bother me one bit. He tolerated her fine, and she usually got all of the attention anyway. So I was in heaven. I had a second dad to pay attention to me and play with me and take me to the festival when my dad was busy. Weeks turned into months, glorious months.

Then it happened for the first time. I was walking to my room for the night after a long day of dress up with my sister and Charles, my parents were clearing the dinner dishes and my sister was begging to stay up later. I had just stepped toward the threshold of my bedroom and my sight went black. I stumbled and fell to the floor, but I had no idea where I was or even that I had fallen. My senses easily drowned out my family's panic with my own personal fascination. I saw, in a fuzzy dream like manner, myself splashing around in the bath behind the kitchen. I knew that it was the middle of the day from the harsh sun outside, so my mom would be at the grocers, picking up supplies for dinner. She usually took my sister with her, so this would be prime play time. I must have asked Charles to help me carry the water buckets and now I sat alone in the room, blowing bubbles in my hands and gluing my dark hair up with soap. I could hear my own giggles like faint echoes and almost feel the slippery soap in my hands. It was captivating.

Then I heard a light knock on the door and I had the idea that this was somehow what I was meant to pay attention to. The dream me scrambled for a towel to throw over her shoulders, but stayed in the warm suds. She called a faint question and Charles peeked in. He came in slowly, uncertain. The few words exchanged were strained, just barely, but the dream me didn't really seem to notice. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, but I couldn't tell why. I heard offer of a new game, and he turned away for a second to allow my dream self to jump up and adorn the towel around her neck. Then he turned back around. He said my name, softly, like I might break if he raised his voice to a normal level. His hand rested on the dream self's shoulder, and suddenly I caught a glimpse of something strange in his eyes. A sort of hunger, something burning deep behind them. I was immediately thankful that I was only feeling a portion of this strange me's situation, because I wanted to run away. Something was not right, and the small, wispy figure in front of me was finally starting to see it. She made to excuse herself to get dressed, moving to walk around him, but his hand tightened, refusing to release the grip.

His other hand moved slowly to her face, his movements calculated. He caressed the side of her cheek and then his hand softly traced down her neck to the gentle swells just beginning to form at the top of the towel. She shied away even farther, she, her, someone else. The interest had turned to horror. This couldn't be me, even some other me, this had to be someone else. Some cruel imagination. I sunk down to the corner and covered my eyes, but I could still see as if my hands were at my side, I could still feel the whisper of touch as a slight heat slid across my own chest. As his hands roamed to her thigh and slowly slid upward I felt the heat go icy with fear. Her eyes were wild. I clawed at my chest, my thigh, wherever the cruel cold spread, but it did no good, she stood frozen in fear so I was thrown into some shard of her nightmare as well. I screamed at him to stop, to leave us alone, but my cries were silent even to my own ears. I raked my hands across my body where he touched her, but my nails left no trail and the feeling remained unchanged. The seconds dragged by, screaming, crying, trying desperately to hide my eyes, but even when I couldn't see, I could still feel. She finally gathered the presence of mind to scream, so a new pressure fell across my mouth and nose, suffocating me. I could still feel his other hand, roaming freely, slowly, cruelly slow. This tiny girl's strength was no match for him. I couldn't breathe. My throat burned, my lungs burned, my vision blurred. She was going to die. I was going to die. That would be better than this. Anything would be better than this.

But I didn't die. I opened my eyes to harsh light and deafening sound. Activity swirled around me and the first face I registered was his. He held my neck, supporting my head, a terrified expression painted across his features. I didn't notice the same expression mirrored on the rest of my family, I didn't notice anything about the rest of my family. I screamed, and finally the sound registered in my own ears. I struggled until I managed to get upright and ran the last steps to my room faster than anyone could react, slamming the door and pushing everything in my room against it to keep everyone out. To keep _him_ out. I threw myself on the bed, shaking and sobbing, my head fell beside the can against the wall and I wretched. I knew that it had all been some strange imagination, but I could still feel his hands on me.

For the next week I refused to leave my room. I didn't sleep, I barely ate, and most of all I refused to bathe. I wouldn't let Charles within my sight and even the sound of his voice in the house threw me into panic. As my parents began to wonder out loud to neighbors and friends about my condition, the stories began to surface. The baker had noticed a strange way he held my hand in public, our elderly neighbor had found it unnatural that a man of his age would spend so much time with a child not his own. My friend Susan's mother had seen him combing his hands through my hair and been uncomfortable with the expression on his face. They asked him to leave, then, and he did. I was able to partially come to terms with the idea that it had never actually happened, it was simply some strange happening, horrifying and unusual. As the days began to stabilize into weeks and then months, I realized what I had seen. Another vision came, of this raven haired man in my house. Nearly a year later, he came. I had seen the future, but somehow I had been able to change it.

I remembered when the silvery stranger with the fiery touch actually came to our house. I didn't hate my mom for what she'd done, and I certainly didn't blame my father, but I hated that man. My parents were meant to be together. They were meant to love each other and love my sister and me and we should all live together under the same roof, happy. But this man walked into our lives an d ruined them forever. He came to the house asking for my mother one day. My dad curiously showed him in, but my mother didn't seem so calm. She squirmed in her seat and begged with him in hushed tones. I knew she wanted him to leave, but he was insistent. He kept casting sideways glances at me and they made me uncomfortable. I remembered the attention of Charles in my dream world and I shivered.

My parents never meant for me to hear their argument that night, but I did. My sister had beautiful blonde hair like my father and rich blue eyes like my mother. I had jet black locks, like the stranger. And my eyes were a mixed brown hazel, much darker than either of my parents. I had never heard my father swear, but he did when he found out my mother had been unfaithful. I was not a Brandon after all. I belonged to the terrifying man with the deep eyes and the burning touch. And he would be back to collect me. My mother feared the man's inhuman strength and warned my father that he would not be scorned. My father caught a glimpse of me then, cowering in the corner of the next room, and made up his mind. He would take me and run. He knew I wasn't his biological child, but I was his daughter in every other way and he would do anything to keep me safe.

So we ran. Right up until the last day he had wanted so much to keep me with him. But the farther I got away from my familiar, childhood home, the worse the visions got. If he could have hid me I know that he would have, but we had no place to go. I would be walking to the bakery in the morning and collapse to my knees trembling, my eyes distant and my whole body shaking. The town would whisper of witchcraft and we would have to be out of the city by nightfall. Then we would go on, catching a ride with kind merchants or walking when the road was empty, on to the next town far enough away for the rumors not to have spread there yet. He couldn't stay home with me, not when he could find work for a short stint, it was expensive to pack up so often and we had few possessions to our names. So the cycle continued, my father would work when he was able, one time when I was out in public, as rarely as I left it would still happen eventually, I would have an episode, then we would move on. Some days we didn't eat, and some nights we slept under the stars beside the road to some new town, but I had my dad and he chose me even when I wasn't really his, so I was content.

Finally, we came to a town with a giant, foreboding building on the outskirts. When the day finally came that would have caused us to leave, the town didn't whisper of witchcraft or spells, even before my father could get to me I was taken to the dark building. The doctors there were trying to help people like me. They weren't afraid of me or what happened to me. My dad was so shocked that he asked me if I would stay, to see if they could help me. I was willing to try anything my dad wanted, so I stayed. My father had never really been the religious type, but he found himself a rosary in those days and would sit outside the gates, holding my hand, praying through the airy scripted prayers. Mary Alice, full of grace, he took to calling me. I think it was his prayer that I be saved.

The people in the facility had good hearts. The treatments were excruciating and dreadful, but they were only doing what they knew to help me. And some days the visions were less. The kind director of the facility took careful notes on me. He reminded me of a softer version of my biological father, but his touch was chilled and his eyes were a light honey. He had a long doctor title, but I always thought of him by simply Mark, his first name. He was probably slightly older than my father on the other side of the gate, my _real_ father, and his attention was gentle and sympathetic. For some reason, I trusted this man. I even told him of the charcoal haired man who claimed to be my father and had tried to take me away. So when that man showed up at the gate instead of my father one day in my vision, I knew that my real father may soon be gone. Mark heard my scream and made it to my side in an impossibly short time, when I told him what I had seen he took me into his office to talk to me.

I didn't really understand much of what he told me. I found out that he knew, indirectly, of my father and that I was in danger. He burned because he was half monster, strong and deadly, and I carried a small part o f that monster too. He had created me and dozens of brothers and sisters like me as a way of making himself stronger. He let each of them grow with their mothers, then he took them and…consumed them. I didn't have any concept of what he meant at the time, but with realization of my new world I came to understand he meant that he drank them, killed his children. Mark knew that he wasn't strong enough to fight this legendary monster, but he hoped that he could save me from his plans for me. He said it would hurt more than any shock therapy, but I would become like my father, and he would no longer want me. I hated the idea of being like him, but Mark assured me that he was this monster too, and I didn't have to chose to be dreadful like the man who called himself my father. So I agreed. On the condition that he protect my real father. I'm sure he tried. When the burning stopped my senses were sharpened. Mark taught me to use my new senses to my benefit, I was able to leave occasionally and visit my father, when he was home, and within weeks I had physically matured from a teenager to a young adult.

But with all that Mark had taught me, I was still helpless when he came. Mark made me promise to run. So I did. And I was rewarded with a vision, Mark, the man who conceived me, and my father were all gone. I was alone. I didn't know how to get back and find my mother and sister, and I had no one else. I went back and buried my father. I couldn't find Mark, and the smoke from a nearby fire was choking me, so I left before I could find him. I found the imposter who had caused me all of this misery. I left him where he lay. Maybe the rats would eat him. I hoped so. I took the rosary with me, it had represented me to my father, and now would keep me closer to him. Mary Alice, full of grace. I would never allow another person to call me by that name, it was only his. It hadn't worked for me, but I hoped that wherever he was he wasn't alone anymore. So I wandered. For years. Catherine, Elizabeth, Jocelyn, I renamed myself in every new home. I didn't care what they called me, I would be gone before they could get used to my presence. I was always searching for my family, but I didn't know if my mother lived, and I didn't know if I would know my sister anymore, no longer a small child.

So I settled down in place to place, teaching school for a year, cleaning houses another. Some days I would just walk, for hours and hours. Then I started to see him. The beautiful, violent, tormented man with wild hair like my father's and deep scars on his skin and soul. Sometimes I would just sit and look for him, gazing into the future trying to find when we would meet. I had known so few people since my childhood, moving so often with my father, and then knowing only the asylum workers. I longed for real company, someone who could share my secret. And I knew from watching him that he was like Mark. I could trust him with my own strange identity that I seemed fixed in for eternity. I was careful in how long I stayed places, knowing that a new young woman arriving alone would draw attention, but not more than the same young woman staying young for years and decades. I also had to be careful not to let people get too close to me, my skin burned and at times I forgot my own strength. A girl my size shouldn't be able to uproot a tree in frustration, and if I thought that having visions started rumors of witchcraft, tree removal accomplished it much quicker. The most recent round of matchmaking had started in my former home, so I had moved on a couple months ago. It was nice to be able to relocate in darkness, I could run and not be noticed, one of the few times I could flex my speed without fear of being caught.

The years had been lonely, but the occasional view of my future friend helped me keep hope that I would someday have someone to share eternity with. So here I am, sitting in a diner. The first day I'd seen this tiny corner shop I had been drawn to it. That night I'd seen him, here, at the diner. I had no idea when he would come, but I had a small amount of money saved from my years of odd jobs so I rented a room in a house as close as I could find to the place. I came every day, I didn't want to miss him. So here I was, today, like every day, waiting. I think the owner of the place felt sorry for me, once in a while he would bring me warm tea and cast a sympathetic glance my way. He was a man of few words, but I had heard from the family who owned my house that his wife had died of the fever. I know he knew what it was like to be lonely, and he hoped that whoever I was waiting for would come. Today is like any other day, the waitress is walking by as if I'm not sitting in the same corner. She doesn't understand why her boss lets me stay when I rarely order anything. I am running out of my small savings, and so I've taken to living mainly off of animals outside the town, although I always felt bad about it. Some days I didn't eat, it was sort of a gift to some forest deer or a few foxes. It was also one of the few ways I could feel in control .

I may not be able to bring back my father or Mark, and sometimes I couldn't close my eyes without Charles' finger prints burning into my skin, but this is one thing I could always control. Once in a while my host family will have odd jobs for me to do in the evening, after the diner was closed, to help me pay off the rent. So days like today I treat myself to a pastry from the shop, like I used to love as a child. I close my eyes and pretend to share it with my sister. I twirl my finger around the apple filling, smiling as I picture my sister's disapproving frown. She had always hated getting her hands dirty, even as a small child. I draw my finger back from my mouth, humming quietly the beautiful music I had heard from the window of the cathedral earlier in the week. I never had much of a talent for music, but I thoroughly appreciated those who did. The elderly woman who played the organ was incredibly talented. I sat on the sidewalk during mass every Sunday. I wasn't sure what I was, but I was pretty sure that whatever I was, God didn't want much to do with me, so I enjoyed his music from outside. This song had been slow and beautiful, the melody drifting above the rafters like it would make it all the way to heaven, and the low harmony-

My musings are suddenly cut short by the familiar rush of darkness, covering my vision and sending a violent shiver through my body. I have gotten used to being less conspicuous, and it is slightly easier to control now in my stronger body, especially with several decades of practice. I pull myself more fully upright again, my eyes still blank but my face composed as if I still I see my real surroundings. I can him, the blond man as familiar as my own reflection. He is running, the fierce woman who often accompanies him nowhere in sight. And as the scenery flashed by, I began to recognize things. The giant oak on the edge of the forest I like to sit in at night, the broken old bridge over the dried up creek, the small fence that denotes the town limits. He was coming. Finally, I would meet him. My vision clears as I hear the first raindrops on the thin roof. He is coming. Uncertainty tugs at the back of my mind. I have spent a long time puzzling on this man, but a new question is now lingering. A nagging, almost childish fear. What if he doesn't like me? I have spent days deciding how I would will to him, someday, today. But I have never guessed what his reaction to me might be. I hold a hope that we can be important to each other, but what if he doesn't need me? I am alone, and I have been for years. I wake up every morning with the hope that today will be the day I meet him. But he has a life, violent and tremulous though it may be, he might not want me. The other woman, the sharp and vicious one I see so often, maybe she is his. I see them together and they often huddle close, conversing on some secret unknown to the onlookers. Maybe that is all I am destined to be, another onlooker, maybe fate has allowed me only a brief encounter and a lifetime of unbidden voyeurism.

The rain is thundering on the roof now, and it drowns out most of the conversation of the patrons. The door opens and closes and I hear heavy footsteps, boots if I had to guess. Familiar, oddly familiar. Its him. Right there. After years of watching through my mind's eye, he is standing not ten feet from me, his back toward me as he casts sideways glances back at the staring towns people. I start to move to stand, but just then he turns and I see his eyes. I freeze. So different from hazy visions, his eyes are deep, terrifying crimson. Like the man who had taken the only people I had from this earth. Like the day he showed up at the gate instead of my father. I am frozen in place. I know that if I don't move soon he might leave. I will lose what might be the only chance I will ever have at knowing this man. But all of the sudden I am overcome with doubt. For all I know he is just like Charles. Or the man whose eyes bore into my memory. But I know that an eternity wondering and watching is worse than anything this man can do to me. I have to know. So I push my shaking legs out of the booth that is my only security and I close the distance in a few steps, each intentional and forced. I have to know. He is facing me before I am even aware he has moved, his arms pulled slightly back and his fists pulled in tight, his body ready for attack. I falter, but only for a heartbeat. I am offering my hand before I reason can take over.

"You kept me waiting a long time."


	2. The Familiar Stranger

Ch 2- The Familiar Stranger

I can see his expression darken in confusion. Of course, I have just greeted him as an old friend, almost scolded him for staying away. Of course he is confused; the poor man has never seen me before in his life. I can see the shop owner out of the corner of my eye, his focus conflicted. He wants to be happy for me, that I have found the one I was waiting for, but he is afraid of this menacing man and afraid for me. I am afraid too, but I know that I have to find out. Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach for his hand and gently pull his fingers out of a fist, sliding my hand into his. His visage isn't softening, but he isn't moving to stop me. His hands are cold, freezing. Like Mark. Somehow this was going to be ok. He may have the monster's eyes, but he had Mark's touch, and I am comforted. I am suddenly aware of the interest of half of the town burning into my back, so I gently tug on his hand to follow me. I watch him begin to resist, but then, probably out of curiosity more than anything else, he is moving to follow me. We are crossing into the pouring rain, so I decide to try again. I can't tell offer him the name my father gave me, his precious Mary Alice. But I have the feeling that I will regret making up another name. I want him to know me. I will offer him as close to the truth as I can.

"My name is Alice. But I've never heard yours." This elicits me another guarded glance. He must think that I am crazy, but he is humoring me for the moment.

"Jasper." His voice is raspy, as if he is unaccustomed to using it in everyday activity. This is some measure of interest, so I flash my best smile of appreciation. He seems marginally amused, and under the harsh shadows I think I caught a hint of a smile.

"Jasper. It fits you well. Will you be staying for a while, or do we need to leave soon?" This catches him mid stride and I am immediately sorry as his eyes narrow and he yanks his hand free of mine.

"We?"

I have seen him for so long that I have always assumed once I see him I will stay with him. I forget that he has never seen me before, to him I am an interesting stranger, a tiny girl with wild black hair and strange behavior. To me, he is my hope that I won't live eternity alone. To him, I am an odd little girl who took his hand when everyone else cowered. He isn't moving, so I don't either. Maybe I will think of something to convince him to stay, if I don't move he might not either. His expression seems to be softening, if even only the slightest bit.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

This girl is the strangest human I have ever met. She doesn't have the good sense to run away? Everyone in the room is unconsciously backing away, and she approaches me. Does she have a death wish? Maybe. As I turn to face her, ready for trouble. There is a strange smell in the room I can't place and it is making me uneasy. It's sweet like the human scent swirling around the room, but earthy, like a strange, sensual perfume. I hear her heart falter. I can feel her fear now; maybe she has some sense after all. But before I can even finish that thought she is touching me, pulling at my fingers. I have no idea what she is trying to do, but I find myself so curious that I allow her.

She intertwines her fingers. Her touch is like fire. I have never felt any human like her. She might be dying of the fever that preys unsuspectingly around here, which would explain her bizarre behavior. A sudden calm begins to fill me and I realize that it is radiating from this tiny, strange girl. She is smiling down at our hands. I am so curious that when she tries to tug me toward the door I follow her. I have no idea what to expect, I have never seen this reaction on any human I have watched or hunted. She clearly doesn't know that she is dying. Or maybe she does. The strange calm is laced with the most delicate tension now, but not anywhere near the terror her instincts should be providing for her.

"My name is Alice. But I've never heard yours."

What a strange introduction. Was that some sort of cultural norm I had missed while I was off traipsing around the territory with Maria? Of course she has never heard my name, I've never laid eyes on her before. But I offer her my name out of habit, when a lady asks you a question, you answer, after all. "Jasper."

This seems to please her, and she flashes me the most beautiful smile I have ever seen on a living creature. Before I can even decide how to respond I feel the corner of my mouth begin to turn up in response, just slightly, and I can feel her joy as she notices it as well. This strange, strange human is getting to me, and I have no idea how. I realize that she is talking to me again, and I focus back on her words "Will you be staying for a while, or do we need to leave soon?"

I yank my hand away from hers in shock before I even realized that I have moved. We? Who the hell does she think I am? I can feel her regret and it confuses me. She is upset that I didn't expect her to be my permanent companion? That thought is amusing. What an interesting pet she might make, I consider taking her along just to see what Maria would say, if I ever ran into her again. But then again she might not last that long, the burning of her hand left a strange warmth even now. I don't know much about humans, but I'm pretty sure that kind of sickness doesn't toy long with its victims, she probably doesn't have long to live. Maybe she will be dinner tonight. I had seen how the sickness takes humans, and for once I am not thinking only of my own thirst. I try to picture her laying on the street like I've seen some of the others, moaning and wishing for death.

With the burn in her skin that is probably where she should be. I am suddenly overcome with curiosity. I know that she poses no threat to me, and maybe that is what possesses me. I reach out my hand to touch her face. Her face can't burn like her hand, it isn't flushed with fever and her eyes are alert and bright. As soon as my fingers curiously brush her cheek I finally feel the fear, immediate and crushing. She has realized that she is walking into her demise, taking the hand of the very angel of death himself. She's frozen. This tiny little girl who has no idea that she is already dead, ravaged by sickness that wipes out towns, has finally realized that she stares into death's eyes. What a fascinating moment, I have never been so captivated in my long life. I know that I am terrifying her, but I don't move.

*_*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

He is touching me. Like Charles, his hand grazing my cheek. I'm not breathing, the air escaping while I stand here paralyzed. No one gets close to me. No one touches me without my consent. No one touches me. Ever. I know that I am panicking, but I can't help it. I might lose him if I can't pull myself together, but that only adds to the building hysteria. I need him to stop but he doesn't move. I can barely see him through the haze of panic, but he doesn't even seem to notice. Years ago, decades, nearly a century, but only seconds. I am curled in a corner, screaming silently and clawing at the cold cruel hands, but nothing is happening. My mind betrays me, my knees lock to keep me vertical and my vision is black. I can hear happy splashing of water and I blanch, reeling against the perfect memory. I squeeze my eyes closed but the darkness doesn't respond, the vision comes closer and closer, the light trickling in and the sound becoming more and more clear. I am not sure if I am screaming out loud or only in my head, because I can't hear anything. I don't even notice that he has withdrawn his hand.

The horrific vision is getting closer and closer, every second is memorized even though I haven't seen it replayed since that first night. I know that my breathing is making everything worse. Air comes in short, strangled, desperate screams and when I can't stop myself from hyperventilating I hold my breath to try to get back in control, which only leads to more strangled screaming when I start to see dancing stars in the vision and have to breathe again. I can't look away from him. And I can't move, he just sits there in the doorway, watching me with that terrible look in his eyes. How did I miss that the first time?

He's touching me, again, holding me close and taking me somewhere. If I let him get me back to wherever he wants me this will never end, he'll have me forever, no one will save me. I have to get away, somehow.

And now, much earlier than I remembered, his hand is over my mouth, trying to keep my quiet. I lash out at him, but his body is like stone, unyielding and cold. The panic is getting worse, and my breathing continues to betray me. I can't get away. There is nowhere to escape. He has me and this time I won't get away.

*_*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

Her panic is clearly building, but I am not moving. I had thought this was just her instincts catching up with her, but she's not moving to run, and this is somehow different…I'm not sure what about me is finally frightening her so much, she is the one who strolled right up to me and took my hand. If the message of danger is finally getting through to her then her body is clearly treacherous toward her, because it is not providing her with any sort of flight mechanism. She is just standing there, her eyes wide and terrified. I can't move, I recognize fear, like a familiar dark melody, but this is an intensity and tenor I had never felt before. I had felt fear of death, I felt it daily, rushing into me with each drop of my victim's blood. I knew the fear of betrayal, for all of her posturing, Maria reeked of it. I knew fear of failure, fear of pain, fear of the unknown, and all sorts of other strange variations.

But I had never felt this. It was an emotional strength I had only felt it in my own kind. It was an intensity that is impossible to attain with the few years humans are allotted on the planet, even if they live to an unusually old age. But the content, the pitch, the tone of this fear is foreign to me. It is so intense. She seems to be drawing back, into her mind, but this doesn't comfort her. I feel a slight tremor run through her and the terror is intensifying, which only a moment ago I would had been sure was impossible. I can't handle it any more, I drop my hand, but the hurricane of emotions continues to assail me. With her fear comes her scent, and I am overcome with the same sweet, musky, earthy and seductive fragrance from the diner. Was that strange scent hers? I brought my hand to my face and inhaled, the perfume multiplied, overtaking my senses for a second, distracting even from the assaulting fear from the small girl before me. What was this creature? I didn't have long to puzzle over this because, before I could think too hard on this question, she stumbles backwards, shaking and begins to scream.

I am no longer touching her, and her eyes are closed. It's becoming more and more clear to me that this terror has little to do with me. What a strange concept, death himself is standing here puzzling at misplaced fear. But I can't take time to figure this out, people will come to see what is going on, even in the pouring rain, so I have to act quickly. I could run, no one would ever find me, but I would be leaving her here to tell the story, and that didn't seem like a great idea. And even if it would have been, I can't bring myself to leave her here, clearly scared, almost literally out of her mind. Maybe whatever she was actually afraid of would find her. And she was such a unique creature, I have to find out more. But I can't have her keep screaming, so I make a quick decision, pulling her up by the shoulders and knees and running.

She is light, her tiny frame barely registering to my arms as present, but her panic has redoubled. I know it isn't going to help in the short term, but I need her to be quiet. I push her face into my chest, holding her there with the hand around her shoulders, she has to stop screaming, just long enough to get out of town. Only a few more seconds and she can scream all she wants. The immediate response nearly knocks me over, I stumble for the first time in my infinite existence. Panic, but I am getting used to that. But also strength. This tiny creature is trying with all of her might to escape me, and doing a much better job than is possible. She clearly has little combat training, but her sheer strength is shocking. I am sure in a normal fight I could have easily bested her, but in this strange position, holding my opponent close to me rather than keeping her away, I can barely stumble the last mile out of town, her tiny fists raining down on my chest and arms, occasionally landing a blow hard enough to make me stumble.

Finally. A clearing far enough away to let her go. I get close enough and dump her unceremoniously on the open ground. She surprises me again, this girl has more oddities than any other creature I have encountered in my long existence. She stays there, screaming and clawing at her skin. I am sure now that she is entirely unaware of my presence. My attention is divided between warring senses. Her odd behavior has me on my guard, but the overwhelming perfume is enough to nearly knock me over, it is covering me, sinking into my pores as the heat of her proximity melts away. I am entirely uncertain of everything regarding this girl's behavior, but I am certain of one thing. I have to know what she is. And if possible, I need her with me. This intoxicating scent pulls at something deep inside me. I would figure anything else out.

Another scent is mixing with the original, a stronger, sweeter, scent that draws me back from my revelry. My attention returns to immediately learn that it is her blood. She is clawing at herself, ripping open the skin on her arms, her chest, her legs, still screaming, but the tenor is changing into angry sobs. She can't have that much blood in her, I have to stop her before she kills herself. What a strange creature. I catch her hands, restraining only them. She is still afraid, but her body is once again betraying her. She is exhausted, physically and emotionally, and she can't fight back. She collapses into me, her blood and tears soaking my shirt. Tantalizing. Absolutely excruciating, the beast inside me demands action without permission. I release her hand and catch the side of her neck gently, holding her to me in what must appear a comforting gesture. Unbidden I act, against every mental faculty that demanded to know what she was and how she did this to me. The monster relishes for only a second, hovering fractions of a centimeter over her neck, feeling, smelling, hearing her heart push the perfume to her veins. I can't help myself.


	3. Musings and Questions

She collapses into me, her blood and tears soaking my shirt. _Tantalizing_. Absolutely excruciating, the beast inside me demands action without permission. I release her hand and catch the side of her neck gently, holding her to me in what must appear to be a comforting gesture. Unbidden I act, against every mental faculty that demands to know what she is and how she is doing this to me. The monster relishes for only a second, hovering a fraction of a centimeter over her neck, feeling, smelling, hearing her heart push the perfume to her veins. I can't help myself.

Ch 3- Musings and Questions

I am immediately aware that I have made a mistake. I imagine this feeling is similar to a child who has bitten into a plastic fruit or tried to snack on an air freshener; wrong. Her taste is earthy and musky, but not meant for consumption, I pull back the venom. While I can taste undertones of venom in her system already, I can't take the risk that my addition might destroy her. She has collapsed into me entirely; her only emotions resignation and apathy. She is breathing in a light pant, her heart still trying to catch up. I sink to the ground, carefully pulling her with me. In a single hour I have experienced more strange incidents than the span of my long life. I hope this strange girl is up for giving an explanation soon, because I am getting impatient. I scan the tree line one last time; there is still nothing else unusual around, nothing other than us. Either whatever she was afraid of isn't coming, or it really was just me. I glance down to check on the china doll collapsed into me and am surprised to see her already watching me, her gaze absent of the madness that had just transpired. Was I going insane?

*_*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*

I am given a moment to collect myself before he realizes I am watching. How did I get here? And why is he still here? I was sure this massive display of my mental instability would have ruined my chance to ever get to know this mysterious man from my visions. Yet here we are. Both of us…still. I don't know why he brought me here. The last moment of reality I clearly remember was him touching my face. It was innocent, probably, but it had been enough to send me back to a cowering child. Humans are very easy to predict, they move slowly, comparatively. I have always been able to tell with plenty of time to casually dissuade or dodge if someone intended on touching me. So, as a result, no one did; I made sure of it. But this man wasn't a slow human, and I hadn't seen his intention fast enough to evade.

I had always wondered what would happen if I accidentally let someone close to me again. I guess that was some form of an answer, I would have an immobilizing panic attack, as demonstrated in the last however long it has been. When he touched my face I was torn back to that vision, as clear as if I was still 12, sprawled on the floor of my home with family shaking me and yelling for my attention. It went on and on, like a horrible play with the worst scene repeating over and over. I had some memory of beating on someone, probably him. He'd probably just been trying to get me out of sight. But someone had covered my face, like before, and that had made it all loop back, starting over from the beginning and dragging agonizingly forward, and I am bleeding…a lot. I guess that answered the question of where the pain had come from. So trying to pull his hands off me hadn't been entirely a dream as well. My fingernails are covered in blood. Gashes on my arms and chest have stained my light dress deep crimson and so thoroughly soaked Jasper's shirt that his sleeve drips dark liquid into the mud below us.

Without much warning, he is looking back at me and I am suddenly aware of our proximity. Earlier he had tried to…bite me? At the time I had been reminded of my biological father's intention for me and it honestly seemed fitting. The man who I have seen in my visions for years, this would be important to me. He would be the last face I saw. But just when I had resigned myself to my fate, he had pulled back, sucking sharply at the wound on my neck and crumpling to the ground. I hadn't seen that one coming. So now we are collapsed in the mud. The dark streams of red on my arms and shoulders are deepening in color and starting move more slowly down my skin. As captivated as I was with the idea of his presence and proximity, I was not eager to continue to test my sanity. I have about run out of willpower for one night, so I gently push at his chest, trying to disentangle myself.

At first he is unyielding, and for the first time in a long time, I am aware that he is _much _stronger than me. The thought is unnerving, to be sure, but given his response to my complete immobilization for the last while, I know that if he wanted to harm me he could have. I am still aware of a future contingency where he might change his mind. One part of my mind wants to part ways and go back to my lonely but safe existence, but the rest of my mind knows that I will never be happy alone; for some reason this man is part of my future. I push away from him a little harder, my eyes still locked on him, asking him to earn my trust. He loosens his grasp, finally, and I am sitting up on my own, cross legged in the soggy earth, facing him. I know he must have questions, and I will do my best to answer them. I just want him to stay. I don't know how to start the conversation again, so I am simply going to wait it out.

"What the hell was that?"

I guess I won't have to wait long. Where do I even begin to start that one? I'm not even really sure what that was. I am going to try to be honest, but I'm not sure how much will make sense. "People don't touch me."

"I don't understand."

"I don't let people touch me."

"What relevance does that have?" He is clearly starting to get frustrated, although he is trying to hide it. He must be used to getting straight answers.

I have walked this planet for years and decades without a single person touching me, unless I initiate contact. But that seems like it will raise more questions than it answers. I know that I am irritating him, but I don't know how to explain to him that what I am saying _is_ the answer to what he's asking. "A long time ago I didn't have the choice, I wouldn't have been strong enough to stop him, and now I am. So no one touches me. Not without my permission."

"You stroll right up to me and take my hand out of the clear blue. I don't have permission?"

His logic makes sense, but emotion is hard to reason with. So I decide to try to steer the conversation away. "Why did you touch my face?"

"I was curious. I wanted to see if the burn in your skin reached your face as well. You feel like you are dying of the fever, yet you walk around as if you are fine. Your strength betrays your size, but your heart beats strong, unlike mine. I was trying to figure out if you were dying, and that might explain your strange behavior, but the closer I got the stranger the behavior became. I was clearly wrong in my initial analysis, so I have to ask. What are you?"

This question is even harder than the other. What am I? I am going to sound ridiculous trying to explain this from the little I know. I think that he is like Mark, his skin is cold, his eyes burn red, and he is strong and fast. He probably has a better idea what I am than I do. "I'm not exactly sure. Someone once told me that I was partly like you. I was born to a man like me, with burning skin and a beating heart. But I wasn't like him; I didn't even know I was different from a human for a long time. Then one of your kind bit me, he was trying to save me from my father. Then I became like him, my father that is. I think that I'm partially what you are now, but I don't know why I'm not like you. At first I grew a lot, but I've been exactly like this for years. More years than most ever live. I can live of off human food or blood, so maybe I'm still some strange mix. I don't know."

"Why did you say I've kept you waiting? Do I know you?"

He really knows how to ask the hard questions. There is no way other than the truth to answer this one, and I don't know how he's going to take it. "I saw that you would come. Before I was bitten I saw these visions, and they were of the future. After I became like this they became more frequent and clear, and now I'm better able to control them. Since shortly after I was bitten I've been seeing you. I never knew who you were, but I knew that someday I'd meet you and you'd be important to me. At first it scared me. You fight a lot, and the woman you are with looks fearsome. I was afraid that I kept seeing you because you were coming to hurt me. I see them attacking you and biting you"

This makes me think of all of the crazed people I see biting him. The scars look different in real life. I reach out tentatively toward a silver scar on his arm, I'm curious as to the strange shine to them. He catches my hand, trying to urge me to continue. "I always wondered what you look like in person. When I moved to this town a couple months ago I started to see you at this diner, so I've been spending every day there waiting for you. I've been waiting for you for as long as I can remember, but I don't know why." My fingers trace the half round shapes on his hands as well, my mind and body too spent to protest at further contact. The scars cover nearly as much of his skin that I can see.

"You'll have a scar like that."

"Hmmm?"

"Like mine. I just gave it to you" He tapped next to the healing wound on my neck. "I'm…well…I didn't realize…"

I can see that he doesn't often apologize, but I understand his intent. "It's ok. All behind us now." He looks doubtful, but doesn't push it.

"So what happens now?" The question of the year.

"I'm not sure. I've never really seen much after this. Once in a while I see a small coven with light eyes, like the man who made me, but I'm not sure how to find them. I'm hoping that we'll be able to find them together, if you don't have any other pressing plans."

"I don't have too many plans at all, little one. I was simply wandering when you found me."

"So you'll stay with me?"

"For now, I suppose. You are the most interesting thing that has happened in my long existence, I don't see why not, when I don't have any better plans."

This pressing question resolved, I am all of the sudden very tired. My mind is finally catching up to what my body has been screaming since I woke up, and that is sleep. It's very late, and my screaming episode had done nothing to preserve my stamina. I am still afraid that he might leave in the night, so as a yawn escaped my lips I ask, "You promise?"

He looks a bit perplexed at the question and slightly surprised as well, but his answer reveals none of it. "For now"

A small voice inside me is demanding attention. I am exhausted; mentally, emotionally and physically, but I feel a bit vulnerable here, sleeping out in the open. I usually try to find at least some sort of shelter when I have to stay outside on my trips. I know that the real reason my mind is objecting is the same reason I have the odd conviction that I will be safe; Jasper. My mind is at war with me over going to sleep so close to this irresistibly strong and violent man, willfully leaving myself at his mercy.

Even at my various homes in a multitude of towns, around comparably weak and clumsy humans, I lock my door. Anxiety begins to fight back exhaustion on the periphery of my mind, but I push it away stubbornly. If he wanted to hurt me, he could have already. And if he still wants to hurt me, he is more than able; asleep or awake. At this point, after years of being alone in the world, I am almost more afraid that he will leave me than that he will hurt me…almost. The sooner I succumb to sleep, the sooner tomorrow will come and wash away these dark suspicions. Night is always more disturbing to me than daylight, and everything will be fine tomorrow.

Satisfied, I lay back in the wet grass and leaves, my own body temperature more than enough to keep me warm. I glance at him one last time before I close my eyes, but he has such a confused expression painted on his face that I have to ask. "What's wrong?"

"What are you doing?"

"Going to sleep, why?"

"You sleep?"

"Yes, I have to."

"So strange…" He mutters, probably to himself. I am not interested in investigating though, the darkness is calling to me and my eyelids are getting heavier and heavier. I succumb, pulling my knees closer to myself, unconsciously settling a tiny bit closer to Jasper.

*_*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*_*

I know that I should probably give her a minute to come to, but in all fairness, she didn't give me much warning before whatever the hell just happened to her either. Her eyes look inquisitive, and the only emotion coming from her now is a slight apprehension. "What the hell was that?" I spit it out before I can sensor it, that's not how I talk to a lady, but I couldn't help myself. Maria must have tarnished my manors.

"People don't touch me."

She states it so matter of fact, as if it should answer any remaining questions I might have. But it doesn't mean anything out of the ordinary to me, and I am frustrated that I don't understand what she seems to think is so clear. I am trying to project my tone as patient, to the best of my ability. "I don't understand."

"I don't let people touch me."

This is just as uninformative as the previous answer. What am I supposed to be getting out of this word circle? Is 'people don't touch me' supposed to explain whatever just happened to her? People, or at least I, did touch her, I just had, and only after she had grabbed, and was still holding, my hand of her own volition. I have no idea what she is talking about. "What relevance does that have?"

"A long time ago I didn't have the choice, I wouldn't have been strong enough to stop him, and now I am. So no one touches me. Not without my permission."

Didn't have the choice in what? I had an idea. Preying on the streets put one in some seedy company, and I had seen just how cruel humans could be to one another. I had never allowed them to complete their intentions if I was around; they simply became a second dinner. Who could do that to this tiny, lively sprite before me? And who is this _him_ in question? Was he a stranger or someone close? And what is different 'now' as opposed to at some point in the past when this had happened? What happened to this poor, tiny girl? More to the point, why in the world do I care? For some reason, the only question that makes any sense gets pushed aside. I _do_ care, even though I don't really know why. I decide on the less invasive question from earlier. "You stroll right up to me and take my hand out of the clear blue. I don't have permission?"

"Why did you touch my face?"

She is clearly changing the subject, but I have more than enough questions to go around, on any subject, so I know that I will probably get my answers eventually. I guess now is as good a time as any to find out what she actually is, that might answer some of the other things I was wondering. "I was curious. I wanted to see if the burn in your skin reached your face as well. You feel like you are dying of the fever, yet you walk around as if you are fine. Your strength betrays your size, but your heart beats strong, unlike mine. I was trying to figure out if you were dying, and that might explain your strange behavior, but the closer I got the stranger the behavior became. I was clearly wrong in my initial analysis, so I have to ask. What are you?"

"I'm not exactly sure. Someone once told me that I was partly like you. I was born to a man like me, with burning skin and a beating heart. But I wasn't like him; I didn't even know I was different from a human for a long time. Then one of your kind bit me, he was trying to save me from my father. Then I became like him, my father that is. I think that I'm partially what you are now, but I don't know why I'm not like you. At first I grew a lot, but I've been exactly like this for years. More years than most ever live. I can live of off human food or blood, so maybe I'm still some strange mix. I don't know."

I had never contemplated any form of mixed breed because it didn't seem likely that any human would survive union with one of my kind. If I understand correctly she seemed to be saying that she was born a quarter vampire, but being bitten had changed her to resemble her father, who must have been only half. Meaning if she was bitten again…she might become fully vampire? Genetics were a strange thing. But I have no time to dwell on this strange revelation; I am brought back to her first words to me, now hours ago. "Why did you say I've kept you waiting? Do I know you?" This question is largely ceremonious. I am not asking if I have ever seen her in my vampire life, I know for certain I have not. Perfect recall doesn't fail me that completely. But I wonder if she thinks she has seen me before, or has seen me when I didn't see her somehow.

"I saw that you would come. Before I was bitten I saw these visions, and they were of the future. After I became like this they became more frequent and clear, and now I'm better able to control them." Visions? This strange talent has never occurred to me. I have seen, on occasion, others with gifts, but never one so powerful or potentially useful as this. "Since shortly after I was bitten I've been seeing you. I never knew who you were, but I knew that someday I'd meet you and you'd be important to me. At first it scared me. You fight a lot, and the woman you are with looks fearsome. I was afraid that I kept seeing you because you were coming to hurt me. I see them attacking you and biting you…"

She trails off, touching the scars on my arms. I catch her hand lightly, willing her to continue. "I always wondered what you look like in person. When I moved to this town a couple months ago I started to see you at this diner, so I've been spending every day there waiting for you. I've been waiting for you for as long as I can remember, but I don't know why." Her hands still trace the silver scars, now on my hands. I realize that I have unwittingly marked her as well, the light skin on her perfect neck already closing into a pink scar. The regret I feel is hard to understand, just a few hours ago she was going to be dinner out of pity, and now I feel bad that she might carry a wound from me. I decide that she at least should be made aware of it.

"You'll have a scar like that."

"Hmmm?"

"Like mine. I just gave it to you." I cautiously tapped her neck, moving slowly to make sure she realizes my intentions and can move if she wants to. I want to apologize, but I'm not even sure I know how to do such a thing anymore. "I'm…well…I didn't realize…"

"It's ok. All behind us now." This sudden declaration of forgiveness is not what I expected, but little of tonight had been predictable. I have no idea what to do now.

"So what happens now?"

"I'm not sure. I've never really seen much after this. Once in a while I see a small group with light eyes, like the man who made me, but I'm not sure how to find them. I'm hoping that we'll be able to find them together, if you don't have any other pressing plans." I have no real idea what this revelation is supposed to mean. So I only answer the part relating to me.

"I don't have too many plans at all, little one. I was simply wandering when you found me." Little one? What was she, my child? I was not really one for affectionate names, especially for women of unknown age I have just met. She has some sort of grip on me, and I don't even have the good sense to be disturbed by it. She could ask anything of me…

"So you'll stay with me?" And now she has. But I've left Maria, and then Peter and Charlotte, and now I well and truly have nowhere else to go. So I might as well give in to what I want, and what I want…for some strange reason, is to be with her.

"For now, I suppose. You are the most interesting thing that has happened in my long existence, I don't see why not, when I don't have any better plans."

She seems somewhat content with my answer, and a long yawn escapes. A yawn? Was that simply a leftover habit, or could she sleep? "You promise?"

What a strange question. Even if I wasn't sincere, asking me to promise is not going to secure what she wants. But the idea is endearing, that she would trust my response to, 'you promise?' So I give her the most certain answer I can. "For now."

She seems to accept my answer, but then a dark glint crosses her eyes. She looks like she wants to relax, but something is disturbing her, the concern and fear beginning to bubble under the surface. What am I doing wrong now? I am not aware that I have even moved. She seems to mull it over, some sort of internal debate playing across her expressive features. Finally she glances back up at me, seeming to have decided something.

With that she seems content, and she settles into the ground, pulling her knees toward her chest. By now I realize that I must be staring but I can't help it. "What's wrong?" Her one last glance my way catches my shocked expression.

"What are you doing?" I can't help but ask, even though she clearly seems to be preparing to go to sleep.

"Going to sleep, why?" I had no idea anything with any part vampire in it could sleep, and I am suddenly jealous. I am aware that I am beating a dead horse, but I have to verify.  
"You sleep?"

"Yes, I have to"

Well, that is another intriguing fact to add to the growing list. The strange girl can, and must, sleep. "So strange…"

She huddles into herself, her breathing evens and then lengthens into the subtle indicators of sleep. My mind now free to roam absent from her probing and knowing eyes, I wonder if anyone will miss her, somewhere, if she comes with me. I know nothing of the coven with light eyes, but if that is what she wants I will search the planet for them. Whatever I have to do to please her. I've never felt this way about any other being in my life. At first it was an immediate and demanding curiosity, and now, in only a few hours, it seems to have grown into an even stronger…what? Attention? Draw? _Affection?_ The last word strikes me as too close, I have no need for any of these weak emotions, but I cannot help but entertain the possibility. Not with this tiny burning cherub curled up not five feet away from me. I left Peter and Charlotte because eventually their closeness and affection began to grate on me. I told myself that it was because I have no patience for such weakness. But now I'm wondering if it may be some shade of jealousy. I've never truly wanted anyone with me before, not like that, but maybe someday…All of this brought on by a seemingly innocent encounter…

Her skin reminds me of metal in the fire; strong but pliable, not fragile, but not unbreakable either. But any chance at affection or whatever it is that I do or don't want from her, might be much more of my imagination than a valid chance at reality, if an hour ago was any measure. She had been afraid of me, but not how I expected her to be. She wasn't afraid of my strength or my teeth, she was afraid of my touch, afraid that I would force myself on her. For a predator that regularly kills humans for sustenance, it might be hypocritical of me to feel repulsed by the thought. But I am. I, the monster, feel indignant rage toward the human that made her so afraid. I kill for survival, and I do not draw out my hunt any longer than is necessary, except for the occasional kill for justice or punishment. But nothing she, or anyone, could have possibly done could cause her to deserve this. I wondered if the one who did this to her justified himself this same way, comparing himself to someone worse in his eyes, probably murderers like me, and knowing that at least he wasn't _that_ bad.

The thought yanks me off my shaky and graying pedestal and I decide to run back to the last town for a late hunt. I had seen a large bar there, and I expected to find a stray or two wandering the streets alone. I also didn't want to risk hunting someone in this town the girl cared about. I had no idea if she was close to anyone here, but given her apparent character it seemed likely that even if she had barely met a person she probably cared. I rose silently, knowing I would easily return well before she wakes. I turn away, but the movement startles me with an overwhelming feeling that it is wrong. I look back at her, lying motionless on the late autumn leaves. She looks so helpless. It feels so wrong to just leave her there. But I don't sense anything unnatural in the area, and given her attack on me earlier, I know she can hold her own against any natural predator that might be in the area. And I need to hunt, before she wakes. I don't think she will like the idea much, so it seems important to get it out of the way now. My mind is clearly right, but my emotions don't want to admit it. I turn away, under high protest, and take off to the south before I can convince myself any differently. I make quick work of a drunk staggering along the outskirts, trying, as usual, to end him before he gets too much of a chance to figure out what is going on and project back fear.


	4. Traveling

I take my time wandering back to her, forcing my feet to move slowly even though I want to run as fast as I can. I will go crazy, left to my own devices with her swirling scent and sleeping form. When I finally return, the sunlight is starting to peek over the horizon. I walk up silently and return to my seat next to her. A slight breeze has picked up, gently fanning her irresistible scent toward me. The wind catches a few errant strands of her unruly midnight hair and deposits them over her closed eyes. Absently, I reach forward to brush them away from her face. I register what I am doing too late and brace myself for a repeat of last night, but the fear doesn't come and her breathing stays even. My hand is still frozen over her face, my fingers nearly touching her hair. From this proximity I can feel the heat radiating off of her in waves. I imagine what the intensity of her rich, intoxicating scent would be if I were to bury my face in her hair. This delinquent thought should be an immediate red flag for me, but I find myself pushing it away only after briefly entertaining the idea that maybe, someday…

I slowly pull my hand through the tips of her hair, certain to be gentle enough not to wake her. The sensation is exhilarating; the silk of her hair seems to direct electricity openly from her vibrant soul to my cold, dead fingers, making them wish to remember life again.

*_*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*

I am having a dream, I am sure of it. My dreams are not like my visions; they are hazy and uncertain - they follow no logic. They flow along, lazily plucking images and scenarios from my memory and subconscious, chewing them for a while then repeating them back in a mangled representation of the original. I am standing in an ocean, I think. The friendly shop owner from town is floating lazily along on his back, and he waves to me on the way past. I take a step or two, unworried about what exactly I am walking on. There is a breeze picking up and it is cold. The water is cold on my feet as well, but the wind is frigid. It pulls its icy fingers through my hair, tugging gently at the ends. I can feel myself being pulled back toward consciousness, but I don't mind. I am cold and I don't remember why. The light starting to shine behind my eyelids confuses me further; there are no windows in my small room.

There are also no leaves, and there appears to be one insistently poking at my neck. I can still feel the icy fingers of the wind in my hair, and I crack open one eye to find…Jasper. Frozen, with one hand stretched toward me, about to touch my hair again. My breath catches. What is he doing and why is he touching me? But when I gather the courage to glance up at him he is looking down sheepishly, like a child caught stealing candy. I cannot help but see that his intentions are innocent. As I calm down I am struck by the reality of it all. It's really him. The man from my visions. He's still here. The morning haze is still thick so I find myself having to reorient myself. "Here," is in the forest—outside of town. He stayed, from the looks of it all night. He still hasn't moved, but then neither have I. I reluctantly pry the other eye open and let them wander to his hand, still frozen in place. I lift my eyebrows questioningly, and he removes it.

I move slowly to sit up, my body is tougher than a human's, but sleeping on the forest floor is still less than pleasant.

The silence is starting to get to me, so after a long yawn I offer him a tentative, "Good morning," stretching my arms out to the sides, then over my head.

"Good morning," he responds quietly, nearly too soft to hear. Even at this level I can pick out a slight drawl. Growing up a Mississippi girl myself, I can't help but find it charming.

I want to ask him if I have time to go retrieve the small bag with my only change of clothes and a few trinkets from my house before we go, but his reaction to my question yesterday is making me cautious. So I decide on a less presumptuous question. "What do you want to do today?"

He frowns oddly, as if trying to measure the question. I am not sure what he is interpreting from any of this, his responses so far seem so foreign to any being I have met before. I want to wait out his reply, but I don't want to give him time to mull over whatever strange thing he thinks I am trying to pull on him. "Can I stay with you today?" I am trying to ask an easier question, maybe with less commitment, to see if I can get him talking and make some progress.

"Yes, I suppose."

Well, that's something at least. "Would you mind if I ran back to gather a few things from my house before we leave here? I would like to let the family I am living with know I'll be leaving so they won't wonder."

"Whatever you wish."

"Will you still be here when I come back?"

"If you want."

"I'll run and come right back." I am afraid that if I let him out of my sight for too long I might lose him, so I'm off through the underbrush as fast as I can. I wouldn't have even asked, nothing I own is all that valuable, but I didn't wear the necklace with my father's ring yesterday, and I can't leave here without it. Other than that, the packing is relatively simple. I have two sets of clothing, the longer, formerly light green calico dress I am currently wearing, and a slightly shorter, about calf-length, light blue dress. I pull off the stiff, torn fabric of the now crimson-black stained dress; most of the sleeves shredded to ribbons by my nails, and replace it with the shorter blue one, now my only presentable attire.

The current fashions are starting to run a little shorter anyway, but I don't have the disposable income to follow the fads. I love to see the new patterns in the fabric store or run my fingers through the smooth layers, but I can never stay long enough in one place to work to afford such unnecessary comforts. Maybe I can do without another dress until we find the coven from my visions. I see them in the same place for years before they move, so I hope that I will have time to establish myself and earn a living somehow to buy a new dress, maybe even two. I push the thought aside, stuff my few personal effects into the small bag they often travel in, and head back out the door. I scratch a quick note and leave it at the door. I would rather wait to see them and say goodbye, but I don't want him to change his mind if he has to wait too long.

*_*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*_*

There is a slight tug in my chest as the little nymph dances off into the woods. I am irrationally afraid that she will not return. I have no idea why this concept bothers me, it would probably be better for both of us if she didn't. I have only known her for a day and already her pulsing blood has brought out the predator in me. I expected that to be slightly more prevalent in the discussion last night, and if not then, this morning. I don't know how I expected that topic to go, but nearly ignoring it and forgiving me isn't even close. I am certainly not good for her. I need no further proof than having already tried to end her life once in the last twelve hours.

With that in mind, I have no idea why I am still here, giving her the chance to return. I am not exactly what you'd call 'social'. I don't need company or distraction. Yet here I am, waiting for this stranger to come back and embark on some eccentric journey she seems to have planned out. For some reason, there is nothing else I can be doing right now. I am trying to tell myself it's because I have no other, and therefore no better, plans. But I know that is not the reason. Part of it is curiosity. Even after her explanation of her oddities I am still fascinated, I want to watch her and figure out more.

That is probably closer to the truth. I want to watch her. I feel the strangest need to protect her. She is so tiny, so fragile looking, and certainly so broken. If I had any sense, this feeling should make me leave that much faster. All I can do is hurt her further. I may be enraged at the heinous being that instilled this fear in her, but at least he didn't kill her, as I have already attempted. My kind don't protect, we destroy. Even in my attempts to be gentle and unintimidating, although admittedly unpracticed, I managed to scare her. She hyperventilated when I touched her last night, but I still had the bright idea to run my hands through her hair while she was lying there unconscious. I am not sure what made that seem like a good idea, but it sounded reasonable at the time. Her initial shock and fear I had expected. The quick recovery and subsequent casual demeanor I had not. I was surprised by her ability to pull back such powerful emotions. I must have really caught her off guard last night. If I am surprised by her emotional strength, however, it is nothing compared to how disturbed I am by another image from this morning.

She may be stronger than she looks when she is frightened, but she is clearly weakened. My mind reevaluates her first waking moments, after she'd caught me running my hands through her hair- embarrassing. When she reached up, then stretched to the side, I could see the clear outline of at least the middle three of her ribs through the fabric of her thin and torn dress. She has a small build, but that small isn't natural for anyone. She said she can survive off of blood or human food, which seems to leave little excuse not to take care of herself. It should be relatively simple to stay fed, living among humans with a forest nearby. One way or the other she should be able to find proper nutrition. Maybe she isn't looking.

I am pulled from my unsettling assumption-making by her small form bounding through the forest toward me. I am both excited and apprehensive. I know I have no right to want her with me, and for that matter, no real reason, but I demand no explanation for my reaction, knowing I have none to give.

"Where now?"

"Northwest," she replies confidently, throwing a small bag over her shoulder. I have the feeling that she is simply blindly declaring a direction, but I have no destination, so even if she is, it can't be out of the way. I am not sure of her endurance or speed, so I glance at the sun rising and start walking farther into the forest, keeping the hazy rays dancing off of the damp trees to my right. Today seems to threaten sunshine, so I will have to stay close to the dense overgrowth to stay hidden. I am unaccustomed to traveling during the day in this climate. I tended to stay inside before, training with Maria's troops at night and planning detailed war scenarios inside during the day. We occasionally went out scouting in the daytime if the clouds were low, but we usually stayed to ourselves when alert humans would be awake.

I steal a glance at the girl nearly skipping along a breath behind me; all traces of the trembling, diminutive creature from last night seem to have melted away in the morning light. Her eyes are bright and clear, darting here and there to fixate momentarily on an overhead bird, calling from its perch partially obscured by the canopy, or a tiny flower among the large roots of an oak to pick and bring along, cradling it gently in her hand. The only hints to her uncertainty come from my talent. Every once in a while I catch the conflicting emotions before she seems to push them away. If not for that unfair clue into her mind I would have no idea anything bothered her.

I tell myself that the glances I keep stealing are to make sure she is still with me, but my hearing would be enough to tell that if it were really what I wanted. I just like looking at her. She is so…optimistic and childlike, yet she obviously holds dark secrets. How does she do it, holding such a deep paradox in those sparkling, cheery eyes?

When she catches me looking, she thrusts her hand out to me. "It's for you, I'm saving it. Someday you'll see that the fear and pain you hold around you as a shield is just as delicate as this little flower, inevitably going to wither away…" She trails off to herself, cradling the flower and spinning in circles as she walks perfectly straight down the path. I stare after her for at least five seconds. What is that supposed to mean? She just spouts some random opinion about my "inner self" and then skips away like she's commented on the weather? What is this girl, a walking dictionary for cryptic and clichéd sounding phrases? And speaking of walls of fear, this is coming from the girl who can't have someone touch her casually without having a panic attack?

I admit that it wasn't _that_ casual, but still - seems like the pot calling the kettle black. I immediately lose my train of thought as she skips back and takes my hand again, the little flower crushed between our fingers. I have no idea what I was thinking or where my thoughts were headed, because I am now completely focused on this little fairy dancing beside me. Her hand still feels very warm, but it doesn't surprise me anymore. A cool electricity runs between us whenever we are touching. I have no idea what it is or what to call it, but I know I am beginning to crave it, my skin missing hers when she skips on ahead. Even when she just walks next to me, not touching, I can feel the heat of her skin like the sun radiating toward my arm in the late afternoon.

Of course, if it were the sun, her expression might not be so relaxed. I doubt she has ever seen one of my kind in the sunlight, much less one with so many scars. They show up with glaring intensity, as if each one is powered by its own fuel source. I have never really paid much attention to their presence before, but I am suddenly self-conscious. I wonder, almost adolescently, what Alice thinks of them. What strange person does she bring out in me? I have never cared for another's opinion as much as I care for hers. There are so many questions and each answer seems to only bring more. I may spend my entire eternal existence trying to figure this deceptive little woman out.


	5. Break the Ice

A/N- Hello again! This is also posted on twilighted, but I've been writing a bit faster than my validation beta, and Project Team Beta rocks at fast betaing...so I'm putting chapters up here as they're finished editing!

I've been a little discouraged by lack of response here...and on Twilighted...but I'm pressing on! If you like it, or even if you don't, or if you are just confused, please let me know! I can't fix what I don't know isn't working!

Thanks everyone!

*_*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

I am trying to keep his pace, but he's just walking SO slowly. Every once in a while I see a plant that needs inspecting or a little bird I want to catch sight of before Jasper scares it off, so I run ahead. Then I remember that he seems to enjoy this meandering pace, so I go back to his side. It's probably more than just curiosity and boredom that makes me flit back and forth so quickly. The truth is that I am nervous. Being in his company is wreaking havoc on my peace of mind, my thoughts warring between fear and excitement. The internal cacophony is so loud that I am half running from distraction to distraction to keep myself in the present. I have a vague recollection of saying something inane to Jasper a bit ago about a flower, but I've been so distracted I'm not sure now what I said. He gave me a strange look, which confirmed my assumption that it was entirely mindless. So now, I am studiously keeping my mouth shut while my mind is on vacation, as I should have been doing this whole time.

Every time I come back to him I can't help but return while still facing him, turning with him as he continues to walk, and fall into step behind him. I still can't quite bring myself to turn my back on him. When I run on ahead I circle to the side first, finding something interesting beside the path, then go on, keeping him in my peripheral vision. I am more than aware that I somehow got to sleep last night with him nearby and he didn't hurt me, but instinct is hard to reason with.

I skip back in my roundabout way and take his hand. Even if I am nervous and on edge, I love the feeling of closeness I find when I hold his hand. It's like everything will be alright, even this fear. Like nothing will go wrong and if it does, it will have been worth it just to have known him. I have no idea if this feeling is unique to him, his kind or not unique at all, as I've never held anyone's hand other than my family, in another lifetime. I fall into step a bit behind him, partially to be able to look at him and just as much to keep an eye on him.

Every time my back is to him, even when I am far ahead, my mind screams at me that a predator is following, and I should run away; that he is strong and dangerous and unpredictable. Even if I have amused him so far, I don't know when he might lose interest and snap. I am pretty sure, after the drama last night, that my blood doesn't interest him, at least not anymore. But I have learned that there are fates worse than death, especially with the capacity for timeless memory. There are a lot of other things that might…_suggest themselves_ to him if I stick around too long. The thought makes me shiver involuntarily. I don't want to think of Jasper like that, but the truth is that I really _don't_ know him, however much I think I do from seeing him in my visions. He had been my anchor for years, my hope that I won't stay alone forever. And if he ever decided to try something like…that, like Charles, I would probably so thoroughly give up on this life that I would wish my blood called to him.

But that brings me back to the irrational trust that brought me to the diner in the first place. I have seen him for years. Surely my visions wouldn't bring me to someone only to have him hurt me again, would they? I hope not, because it is that vague intuition that keeps me with him, intuition and the fear greater than what he can do to me – fear of the familiar loneliness that threatens from the recesses of my mind. I know that demon, and this small amount of tense companionship is almost worth anything he might want to do with me. I already carry, scarred into my psyche, the vision of a pedophile raping me that never happened. Even the real thing can't be as traumatic as having your life ruled by an event that never took place. Not that I'm not thankful Charles was caught in time, but I wish the truth had been presented to me a bit less vividly.

I'm sure if my life had continued on its normal path I probably would have been able to mostly get over it, eventually. Even with the additional memory afforded to me by being some small percent supernatural, I still like to believe that with my family and friends and sister to distract and support me, I would have been able to put it behind me and go on with my life. But the event that started my visions changed my life, marked me as different and was foreshadowing to my biological father showing up in my life and turning everything upside down. The vision of Charles was the beginning of the end, and I've had decades alone to dwell on it while no one else can know the full truth.

Not that Jasper knows everything, even after having witnessed my most eventful breakdown since my first vision, decades in the making. But he knows what I am, something that I can't share with anyone, and it is freeing to be able to simply respond to my environment, unrestricted by human pretenses. I am torn between wishing he knew it all, and wishing to know everything about him, and a strong determination that he should never find out; that it is my darkest secret kept only to me. No other soul has ever known what I saw. Not my parents or even Charles himself. It is my own private horror. Something in me wants to keep it locked away there.

If I want to keep it a secret I will have to figure out another sleeping arrangement. I don't recall the nightmare last night, so he probably hasn't seen it yet. But someday he will if he keeps sticking around, watching me sleep. Given his experience with my little…episode…and my explanation, having a name and who knows what other details given to him in my unconscious screaming would probably be enough to help him put the pieces together. At my various homes, I sleep with my face in the pillows, muffling the sound if I should happen to have the nightmare. My unnatural lungs are strong enough to filter enough oxygen through the fabric to allow me to breathe comfortably, so it seemed like the simplest solution. Although on rare occasion I still wake up others, I've been able to explain it away casually enough because their ears are not sensitive enough to pick out names and words muffled through a pillow and walls.

I am suddenly unable to bear the annoyingly slow pace that Jasper has set for us. I have to run, to get some of this anxiety out of my system, if for no other reason. "Can we run?" I ask impulsively. We've been walking in silence for hours, so breaking it seems unnatural and he looks at me, surprised.

"Run?"

I also want to get to the others. I have a feeling that he and I will never really be whole until we find them, but I don't know why. They have eyes like Mark and they treat each other as a family; I long to remember what it feels like to belong to a family, even if I am not included. I don't know if they will accept us, but just being near them would be wonderful.

"Yes, this pace is killing me. I want to _run._" I realize that I sound like a whining child, so I give him my best innocent but impatient look, and I catch the beginning of a responding grin before he recomposes his face.

"Ok, you go on and I'll keep up." This was not what I was hoping for. I can't quite bring myself to have my back to him yet, and I think running like that would probably just about invite another breakdown or an all out run for my life. Who knows, maybe that would bring out the predator in him again after all, a self-fulfilling prophecy? But in any case, that wasn't going to work. I stuff down the panic that had already begun to take over my mind and resolve to stay focused.

"I want to see how fast you can run. Maybe I can keep up." This sounds like a plausible enough excuse, and he seems amused by the thought.

"I don't think you've ever seen my kind run." He tries to hedge diplomatically, but I will not be moved on this one, so without a second of hesitation I respond.

"I don't think you've ever seen _my_ kind run." At this his composure breaks enough to allow a smile, if only for a second, to light up his features. It's breathtaking, enough to nearly make me forget his crimson eyes. He is beautiful. I'm brought back by him pulling his hand away and the feeling of loss is almost tangible. I like touching him. I like being close to him. That realization alone is enough to shock me back to the present. He takes off through the woods, gracefully finding sturdy footing among the wet leaves and uneven ground. I start after him. He is right; he is faster than me, but running as hard as I can, I am able to keep him in sight, so I consider that a small victory. After a couple seconds he falls back to my speed, running with me. I slow marginally to keep him in front of me, and if he notices he doesn't say anything.

"You _are_ faster than I thought." He concedes, his dark eyes shining with…surprise maybe, but something else I can't place.

"Thank you, I guess," is all I can manage without sounding breathless. I haven't gotten to run like this in a long time. Even at this slightly slower pace it is all I can do to keep up. But even that isn't enough to keep my thoughts busy as we fall back into silence.

I wonder if finding the golden eyed group will help ease my mental war. Maybe having them around too will make it easier to relax around Jasper. I don't know that they are entirely trustworthy, I've even seen flashes of the bronze haired boy with blazing red eyes, but I know that they are our next destination. Now that we can run, it will only be a day or two until I can figure out how to get to them. I know the general area from clues in my visions, but I'm counting on something more tangible when we get close enough. Hopefully my visions won't disappoint me this once, when I really need them.

*_*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*_*

As we wander on through the woods and another hour passes, it occurs to me again that she might have no idea where we are going. It still doesn't really bother me though. What a strange feeling; I've never before followed someone I didn't know so blindly. This girl in particular could be leading me nowhere, and I'd follow her happily. This probably should bother me, but as I have been doing since I met her, I push it aside as if that sort of thing occupies my mind all the time.

She is still walking beside me, a step behind. I keep her in my peripheral vision though, and that satisfies my need to watch her. I can't take my eyes off of her. Part of the current fascination is the absolute dissonance between the serene mask on her face and the conflict of her thoughts. I have never met anyone _so_ composed that I can't _see_ the emotions I _feel_ from them with my gift, at least in their eyes, when I have the advantage of knowing what I'm looking for.

But she seems able to hide it all from the world, and for the first time in my long existence as a vampire, I am questioning my gift. Can she really be feeling all of these strained emotions and let _nothing_ show in her eyes? Maybe she is some sort of exception and my gift is going haywire, inventing emotional cues. But somehow I doubt it. Maybe she just learned well to keep her dark secret hidden away to protect others. I wouldn't put that sort of selflessness past her; even in the short time I'd known her. I wonder if she has ever confided in anyone the nightmare that still haunts her. If her explanation yesterday is any indicator, I,m'd say no. She clearly needs to talk to someone. Maybe someone in this group we are headed toward can help her. My thoughts are cut short when she breaks the silence of the trip. It startles me a bit; neither of us has spoken for hours.

"Can we run?"

What a strange question. Won't she get tired trying to run for any distance? She is obviously small, but in a malnourished sort of way, not a wiry athletic sort of way. And the prospect of keeping a slow jog with her on and off for a few minutes at a time seems much more irritating than just walking. Hoping to dissuade her I ask for clarification. "Run?"

"Yes, this pace is killing me. I want to _run._"

Maybe I misjudged her, but I doubt it. I had watched her dance off into the underbrush earlier to go back into town but she didn't seem particularly fast; at least she might have better endurance with the small amount of venom in her blood. I decide it might be best to let her at least try; I'll let her set the pace to see how fast she can comfortably go. "Ok, you go on and I'll keep up."

Her response is unmistakable, even visibly breaking her solid composure for a second. She doesn't like that idea one bit. I catch a brief but powerful surge of fear reflected deep in her eyes, but just as soon as I notice it she has regained her composure and replies.

"I want to see how fast you can run. Maybe I can keep up." Although it seems reasonable enough, I don't want to take off and leave her, and I don't want to frighten her if she doesn't know that my kind has a much different definition of _run_ than the average human. I tried to hedge again. "I don't think you've ever seen my kind run."

Not missing a beat, she replies, "I don't think you've ever seen _my_ kind run."

I can't help the smile that follows in response; I just didn't expect that from her. Well, I guess that settles it. She seems to understand that I'm not talking about human jogging speed so I am slightly hopeful that she might have some of my kind's speed in her yet. It will make traveling on foot with her much more efficient, assuming we actually have somewhere we are going. I turn from her and take off into the woods. She hesitates for a second, something like confusion in her emotions, but quickly recovers and follows. I can hear her footfalls much faster than I had anticipated. She is certainly not as fast as me, but she can manage to keep a reasonable speed if I slow down a little.

I fall back to beside her with a small grin. "You _are_ faster than I thought." I concede. The smile doesn't have long on my face though. She immediately falls back a step to behind me, again. If I had been suspicious before that she was doing that on purpose, all doubt was now removed. Why won't she stay _with_ me? She makes a response, but it doesn't seem important.

I thought I had noticed something strange in her body language toward me when we had been walking earlier. If her sudden fear at my suggestion that she lead wasn't telling enough, this blatant attempt to keep me in her sight certainly is. She is still afraid of me. And that really bothers me. Even if not consciously, her instincts are still trying to protect her. It is ironic, really, when my instincts are warning me back but my mind wanting nothing more than to protect her from anything dangerous. Maybe that's why my instincts are telling me to leave. I'm more of a danger to her than anything else.

I have no idea why this should bother me, her instincts _should_ be telling her to run away. They should have delivered that message some time yesterday. Hadn't I even thought that to myself? Why does it bother me now that she is wary? It probably has something to do with the strange urge I feel to protect her.

(Thinking of... ? Let me know! :))


	6. Camping

Jasper

I notice a strange rhythm coming from behind me, a small, hollow clink of wood lightly hitting wood in a rhythmic tapping. I glance back at Alice and notice that she wears a strange wooden necklace she must have picked up at her house. Some of the beads look like they used to be painted, and at the end of the beads, looped twice around her neck, there hangs a cross. I haven't seen one of those in a while. She wears a rosary? Aren't you supposed to carry those? Maybe you are allowed to wear them…even my human family hadn't been big on church, so I'm not sure. Add it to the list of questions about Alice: is she…religious? And what does that mean for one of our kind? Or one _half_ our kind, as the case may be. I must have not noticed the necklace earlier because it was silent when we were walking. Then again it probably could have had sirens attached to it for how much attention I have been paying to the world outside of my own thoughts on this trip so far.

Having just discovered this interesting clue about her—one I usually would have picked up on much earlier—I decide to scan her for other unnoticed details. I am rewarded when I glimpse a thin wedding band. It looks too big, moved to her thumb to keep it on her little fingers at all. I believe that it is not hers, or at least it is not fitted to her. It looks like it might be a man's band, a little beat up and plain looking. I wonder if it is someone from before or now. It is unusual for vampires to "marry" in the traditional sense; the ceremony seems a little shallow when you are pledging not only a mere lifetime but an eternity to each other.

She looks young, which I assume to mean she was changed young (as much as she was changed), so it also seems unlikely she was married or betrothed, as marriage trends have tended to lean older in recent times. The ring could have belonged to a late relative, I suppose, but that seems like a strange memento to keep. Maybe she just likes it; it could just be a trinket she picked up somewhere. Because the rest of her possessions are very simple, it seems unlikely she would randomly select something so impractical. It must be some sort of token.

In my musings I have forgotten to be subtle, and as my gaze wanders from the ring back up to the rosary, it is pulled up to her eyes. She is staring back at me with an unreadable expression, obviously having caught my scrutiny. Slightly abashed, I yank my attention back to the dense undergrowth in front of me, wondering at my response to this strange girl. I force my mind to another subject, the effort reminding me of trying to drag a child past a candy store. My thoughts return to the coven she wants to find. I have no idea if we ever will, roving about the country like this, but on the off chance she has any idea where we are going, I should probably consider what might happen if we _do_ find them. The only feature she identified about them was their golden eyes. I have heard legends of our kind that live off animals instead of humans, and they are fabled to have golden eyes. I had always assumed this was a silly rumor; it seems like such a ridiculous concept.

But if they are real, and she is taking us to them, I wonder what it will be like to live among so many…and with such strange habits. I have the impression that she is sure we will be traveling together for a long time, which I have no problem with, strangely enough. But I also think that if we ever find this coven, she will want to stay with them for who knows how long. I wonder if she will be safe there. I don't know what I think will happen to her, but her…episode…yesterday has me even more convinced of her fragility. There are sure to be other males in this coven, and I feel oddly protective of this little woman I have known for less than a week. Their diet choices don't mean they aren't still vampires, and our kind is not made to protect.

And yet here I am, traveling with her for exactly that purpose. That is primarily how I have justified my continued presence around her, but I am the same monster I claim to need to protect her from. I breathe an unnecessary sigh of frustration; my actions in regard to this girl make no sense, even to me. She shoots me a questioning look, but I don't respond. I'm not used myself behaving without perfectly reasoned intentions and it is unnerving.

My own abnormal breathing draws my attention to hers. The sun is starting to go down and we've covered a lot of ground today. It hadn't occurred to me that even though she might be able to keep nearly my pace, she still depends on a beating heart and oxygenated blood, meaning that she can't keep going forever. We've been running for a couple hours, and her breathing is starting to come faster and more unevenly. I fall back a little to slow the pace, but it is pretty clear that she is done for the day. We're in a deep part of the woods so I continue to slow, with her one step behind me, until we are back to a walk.

She looks up at me, ready to protest, but when she realizes I have noticed her exhaustion, she seems to change her mind, her eyes falling and a shy smile creeping across her features. Her wild hair is sticking to the side of her face and her cheeks are flushed with exertion. It's captivating. Enticing. Her fatigue and proximity multiply her heady scent, and I fight the urge to move even closer to her, fearing her reaction. After what seems like an eternity but has probably only been a second, she shifts away from me slightly, almost as if she could read what I so wanted to do.

"Well, there's probably a stream or something nearby. I think I'm going to try to find somewhere to clean up." Her eyes venture back up to mine before resuming their calculated study of the ground. I notice that as she leaves she goes to my right, keeping me in her peripheral vision rather than turning around and walking away. I can hear water close, in the general direction she is headed, so it shouldn't take her too long to find it. I'm not sure what I should do to try to occupy myself; I certainly can't go along. I glance around and try to remember what it was like to be human. Shelter. She might want somewhere to sleep that isn't out in the open. I begin pulling on some of the trees and underbrush; this can't be too hard when you don't need a saw to get the wood. It is much easier to work with wood pulled straight from the ground anyway; cut wood tends to be too fragile for our uses.

I hear her footsteps stop and judge that she has probably made it to the river. Then she inhales sharply, her heart racing. Before I can help myself, I have taken off toward her. What trouble could she have possibly gotten herself into in that short of a time? When she is just barely in view, I skid to a stop; she's standing on the bank alone and seems to be calming down. I linger for a second more to make sure she is in no danger, and then I tear myself away. I may not be the most considerate being most of the time, but I want her to trust me. More than likely, having her catch me spying on her bath is probably not the way to earn that trust. Having satisfied myself that she is safe, I run silently back to the clearing.

I arrange the branches into a sort of tent, with one side supporting the other, only half paying attention to my task. I can hear the water splashing lightly; she seems to be in no hurry, probably enjoying her time cleaning up. The small shelter I've created crashes to the ground as I lean into it in my distraction. If she hears it, she doesn't give any indication. I sigh in resignation; I probably deserved that. Yanking my thoughts and senses toward the clearing and away from the river, I set to work repairing the small shelter. I feel like she's been gone forever, although it has probably not been long. When I finish with the shelter I start a fire. With my speed, it isn't difficult to build enough friction on the branches to force them to light, but focusing enough not to just snap the wood is more of a task. I do finally get it going, though, and sit back to await Alice's return. I don't think I've been anxious or impatient for anything since I was changed; you can afford to be patient when you have eternity. But I want her back with me, and I've given up wondering why.

When she sleeps I will leave to hunt again. I don't usually need to feed every day, but being around her delectable scent is reminding the monster within of every delicious taste of human blood. I've resigned myself to hunting daily as long as I keep her company. At the very least, it gives me time away from her each night to clear my head. I imagine it also allows her a more peaceful rest. Given her obsession with keeping me in her line of sight today, I doubt my presence is soothing as she sleeps. She is so strong and eternal, and yet still so…human.

I covet her existence: being able to sleep, to dream, to live on human food and blend in with civilization. Human food…we hadn't stopped all day. No wonder she seemed tired; humans need to eat fairly frequently. I wonder how often she needs sustenance? Surely at least every day, if her needs fall in the middle between vampire and human. I will find out when she returns. Tomorrow I can bring some human food back with me from my hunt. It shouldn't be difficult to find an unlocked pantry door in these small towns.

I don't realize that it has gone silent until I hear her moving again. What had she been doing? Is she all right? For all I've been paying attention, she could have drowned. I chuckled, that would be ironic; letting her drown because I am wrapped up in my thoughts of how to sustain her. I'm sure that I wouldn't have actually missed something as remarkable as her drowning, but I sure have missed obvious things around her. My musings are cut short by her light footsteps approaching.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

I wander slowly over to the river I hear, each step conflicted. I keep my eyes on him until he disappears behind me. He hasn't moved, just stands there watching me. Watching. Like _him_. But at the same time I know that he's nothing like Charles; his look is not demanding. It seems more…curious, interested, I suppose. I see the way he looks at me, and my intuition tells me that he would never intentionally hurt me. But my mind knows what he is capable of, what he could do to me if he found the motivation. I have an arsenal of visions of his angry and violent tendencies to draw on in imagining scenarios in which he might snap.

I see the river ahead and sigh in relief. The exhaustion from the day is starting to kick in. I've never run this far before. I can't wait to sleep tonight, but I wonder idly if I can hope for a second night in a row without nightmares. Especially given my drained state, it seems unlikely. Hopefully Jasper will find something to do far away tonight. At this breakneck pace we should be able to make it to eastern Canada by tomorrow. When we find them, I'm sure I'll be able to figure something out in terms of sleeping arrangements.

I pull off my shoes and gingerly poked a foot into the water, testing the temperature. My normally warm skin is burning with the exertion of the run, so the shock of the cold water on my foot nearly causes me to lose my balance as I yank it back. I sigh. This might not be as relaxing as I thought, but I have to get clean; who knows when my next chance will be? Starting an internal pep talk, I inch my way back to the side of the water. I slowly ease my feet in until I'm standing in the shallow water. Then I realize the next problem: I don't have another dress anymore.

My choices are to just splash off my arms and face and call it good; dive in and get clean but have a wet dress half the night, not to mention look ridiculous when I return; or slip out of it to get cleaned up and pray that Jasper is far away. The first is not an option; I haven't felt so dirty in a long time. And I am exhausted, so the thought of trying to go to sleep in a wet dress, as the temperature is already falling a bit, sounds terrible. Looking around, I see no signs of Jasper or anyone else, so I decide to risk it. I pull my dress over my head and toss it onto the bank, holding my breath as I jump in to the frigid water.

The initial shock wears off quickly, and I scrub my hands through my unruly hair and swiftly rinse off. I shake out my hair, resigned to whatever crazy way it is going to stick out, and a small silver fish catches my eye. Although I have no reason to take interest in him, I am oddly interested. I think the exhaustion from today is starting to catch up with me and I'm feeling a little silly. I swim upstream a tiny bit and dive down for a couple pebbles, tossing them to the little fish. He isn't very concerned, as if small rocks rain from the sky often. I duck under the water and swim closer, staying toward the bottom to try to sneak up on him. It turns out he's much more agile in the water than I am. After a good while of chasing him around, I finally give up. Tired of my games, I decide that I should get back before Jasper comes looking for me. I shiver at the thought, and not from the cold water.

That gets me out and dressed in record time, my dress sticking to me slightly and still getting a bit wet, but better than if I had jumped in with it. I reach down for my shoes, but the ground spins toward me as my vision fades around the edges. I lose my balance and land on the ground, on my side. I just lie there, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Unlike my visions, this is something I have less control over. The pastry at the café is the only thing I've eaten in two days; the running today seems to have sapped all of the energy I had left. The last time, I'd been able to go for almost three days without eating before my vision would darken at the edges with any sudden movement.

Sometimes, I play this game with myself to see how long I can survive without eating. I can't make myself age, I can't make myself forget, I can't even make myself pass for a human if anyone touches me, so I control the only substantial thing that is mine to control in my repetitive life—if I choose to eat. It started with the justification that I couldn't afford food and didn't want to kill innocent forest animals if I didn't have to. It soon became a game that has become integral to my life.

I noticed that after I started this game, I got smaller and smaller. Even though my unearthly appearance draws men's attention, they look away more quickly when I am merely a slight little girl than if I have any curves to me at all. It was another way to hide in my decades of coping. I was terrified that I would run into a vampire with less than noble intentions. If I did, I wanted to do everything in my power to be unappealing and cause him to leave me alone. My plan proved less than successful in the only instance I met another vampire. I shiver at the memory. It was only by iron willpower that I kept myself calm enough that he tired of me. Ironically, despite that close call about a decade ago, Jasper is the most violent of his kind I've ever met, and I came to him willingly.

Jasper. I have to get back before he comes looking for me. It wouldn't do to have him find me lying on the ground staring into space.

The dancing stars in my vision have cleared, and I carefully sit up, moving slowly to verify my balance is back from its sabbatical. I still feel a bit lightheaded, but I notice with satisfaction that I can see clearly and will be able to get back to the clearing just fine. I pull on my shoes and wander back toward the camp. Despite my brief foray on the ground, I still feel much cleaner and more comfortable. As I near the clearing I hear the soft crackling of a fire. A small shelter has been constructed, leaning partially on the tree behind it for support, and the fire is a few feet in front of what I assume to be the entrance of the lean-to.

The sun is starting to set and the pinks and oranges of the sky throw delicate reflections into the turbulent reds and blues of the flames. I could stare into the blaze for hours and still not catch every nuance. The heat from the fire warms the skin of my knees and legs. I realize now that they were still chilled from the water. I hear a small sigh of contentment. When his quiet chuckle follows, I realize that the sigh must have been from me. However, I am enjoying the fire too much to be embarrassed. I drag my gaze away from the spinning ashes and smoke lazily floating away to find him. He is leaning against a tree on the edge of the small clearing, the gathering shadows mostly obscuring his form. In my excitement over the fire, I hadn't noticed him there. I offer him a small smile and resume my examination, sitting down cross-legged on the ground.

I have always loved fire; it reminds me of home, of my mother cooking, of sleeping around the hearth in winter to keep warm. I haven't really had a home since then.

I hear a branch crack to my right and turn to see Jasper approaching, slowly. He seems to be giving me time to object. When I don't, he sits down, a little farther away from the fire than I am, but close enough to be considered sitting next to me. His gaze holds mine, the fire temporarily forgotten. Slowly, even for human speed, he opens his hand, setting it between us. Asking permission, again. I've held his hand before, although in a much less intimate setting and before my breakdown. It is also the first time he's initiated contact, or offered to, since he touched my cheek yesterday. I am temporarily conflicted—I want to feel his hand in mine again; it somehow feels so right. However, I am still afraid of him; my instincts telling me to run away. I've seen his speed and strength. Even if my heart wants to trust him, I have been wrong about others I trusted. But he's waiting for my consent; this is different. Before I can talk myself out of it, I set my hand gingerly on top of his.

His fingers brush the inside of my palm and I shiver. My hand feels tingly, like a current runs between us. He looks slightly alarmed, so I smile to reassure him. His skin sparkles faintly in the firelight, and he looks god-like sitting there almost completely still, his fingers brushing my hand the only movement. I turn my face back to the fire, closing my eyes to see the orange and red dance on the inside of my eyelids. The sensation is intoxicating: the fire warming my face and body while his icy hand sends cool electricity through my chest, my heart speeding up. He takes my hand in his; the whole world seems to have gone silent except for the fire and the beating of my heart, slowing into a relaxed rhythm. Everything seems to be in balance here with him, my burning skin against the ice of his. Even the nagging voice of warning has fallen silent for the moment, and for the first time in decades, I am at peace.

As I relax, the fatigue of the day catches up with me. I slowly pull my eyes part way open, my eyelids heavy. Jasper doesn't seem to have moved a muscle, his position mirroring my own a moment ago. I don't know how long we've been here, but the sky has darkened to black and the fire is burning lower. I realize that my judgment is probably clouded by how tired I am, but I want to lie down next to the fire, my face on his knee, and go to sleep. I can imagine the cool current running through my hand lulling me to sleep next to him. I know that during the day I would probably have quite a few reasons why this is a bad idea, but I can't come up with any right now. It sounds like heaven.


	7. Daybreak

Chapter 7

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

She comes into sight, and her eyes immediately fall on the small campfire outside of the makeshift shelter. I wonder fleetingly if it had been a good idea; I know I'm fairly wary around fire, but humans usually like fireplaces and warm things. I don't have to wonder long. She makes her way over to the fire and sits down, staring into the flames. I can feel comfort and contentment coming from her, she clearly likes it. She lets out a small sigh of satisfaction, and I chuckle, her peaceful mood rubbing off on me. She turns to find me then, probably becoming aware of my presence.

I realize that the way she has positioned herself puts me behind her, and I wait for a response, or at least for her to reposition, but she just gives me a shy smile and returns her attention to the fire. She is sitting down cross legged, her back to me, much closer to the fire than I might venture. I still feel nothing but contentment; apparently the fire was a _very_ good idea. I want to approach her, but I don't want to break the moment. She seems so unguarded and calm for the first time since I met her. I move silently along the edge of the clearing until I am almost in her peripheral vision and then take a step toward her, intentionally snapping a twig loudly to get her attention. She glances away from the fire, and I take another slow step forward and stop, waiting for a response. I get none; both her expression and her emotions show no change so I take one last step toward her and sit down beside her, giving the fire a slightly wider margin than her. I have a healthy respect for how flammable my kind is, and I wonder if being half human means that she doesn't burn as easily; other than the regular burn of her skin that is. I remember the feeling of her hand in mine and suddenly miss the contact. Even holding her while running out of town had been exhilarating. I had no idea what was happening, but having her that close felt right, somehow.

Still holding her gaze, I slowly stretch out my hand, leaving it on the ground between us. I am sure my question is fairly clear, but she doesn't respond right away, her countenance darkening slightly in indecision. After what feels like an eternity, she reaches out tentatively, placing her hand on mine. I gently trail my fingers along her palm and she shivers. I wonder if she's alright; is this too much? Am I too cold for her? She feels so warm to my touch. Before I can ask about it she gives me a quick smile, which I assume to be reassuring, and turns back to the fire, closing her eyes. I can't tear my attention from her; she is beautiful. The fire casts a warm glow on her features that match the emotions I feel coming from her. The water drying from her skin and dress create an aura of her seductive scent around us. I pull her hand into mine, holding it properly, and close my eyes as well.

My mind protests at losing sight of her, but I know that I can't just keep staring at her until she opens her eyes again. Closing off my vision makes me even more aware of her scent and touch. Cinnamon and cherry blossom, sharp and alluring. It swirls around us, creating our own reality in which only we exist. Where our hands meet, I can feel a strange energy, as if she really could transmit life back into my body with only her touch. This simple gesture feels somehow more intimate than anything I have ever experienced. In my long existence, I've been with many women, human and then vampire, but somehow I feel closer to her in this simple caress than I did to any of them. Being here with her it's like none of that even compares, like all of this is new again.

I realize with a start that I have heard this sentiment before. In fact, I had recently mocked Peter for saying something very similar before we parted ways. His bond with Charlotte always seemed strange and foreign to me, but here with Alice I think I am beginning to understand. The comparison between Peter and Charlotte and Alice and I should probably worry me, but I can't bring myself to question it if it means I can be close to her. I have no idea if she will ever really be mine, but I am somehow sure that I would wait all of eternity for her to be ready if it meant I could be with her. I can't pinpoint when this absolute change took place, but I know that I will never be complete without her. Somehow, in the course of two short days, my world has torn itself off its axis and now revolves around her.

I hear her shift slightly and I open my eyes to find her looking at me again. Her dark eyes are captivating, but her eyelids seem heavy, trying to pull her into sleep. She glances at the ground between us, seeming to be trying to decide something. As she does, her wild hair shifts somewhat so the firelight catches the base of her neck. A slight glitter catches my attention. It has partially healed already, but it stands as a stark reminder of what I am really capable of. If I ever hope to have a chance with her, I have to get control of the monster inside. For now, that means I need to tear myself away and hunt. She looks about ready to fall asleep sitting here, so I push myself off the ground, keeping her hand in mine.

"You should get to sleep," I suggest quietly. She looks up at me, her eyes not staying entirely focused. She is exhausted. When she doesn't answer, I try another tactic. "Would you like me to carry you to the shelter?" I had intended this to wake her up just enough to get to the little lean-to before falling asleep, but to my surprise she simply nods tiredly. I stand there shocked for a moment, but then release her hand, kneeling next to her to take her into my arms gently. I move slowly, carefully watching her for any sign of yesterday's panic, but she simply lets me lift her and leans into my chest. I suddenly wish that I had built the fire very far away from the shelter, because in only a few steps we are standing outside of it. I kneel again, crawling partway in to lay her down gently on the packed earth. If she doesn't find this mystery family soon, I'm going to have to come up with some other arrangement for her to sleep; this doesn't seem ideal. As I pull my hands back, she turns toward me, curling up slightly, but not opening her eyes.

"Goodnight Jasper," she mumbles. I tear myself away and wander north; the towns we've already passed through didn't look too promising. It might be good to scope out the journey anyway, should she decide tomorrow to keep up her bizarre course.

I don't run, I barely even jog. I know that I have a lot of time to fill if last night was any indication. I have never missed sleeping so much as I do watching her. I wish I could lie next to her and drift off to sleep holding her. More than one part of that fantasy might be impossible. Tonight around the fire she seemed to let her guard down, and I think it was progress in the right direction. However, I am not foolish enough to believe that one act of trust when she is half asleep means that everything is alright and I can relax my caution around her. She's had a long life, probably alone; to relive whatever happened to her. I have to remind myself that she may _never_ want a man near her in that way.

I realize now that demanding an explanation yesterday may have been a bit harsh. Her frustrating answers make more sense now; it's unlikely that she's accustomed to explaining herself, much less to a complete stranger. I hope that one day she will feel comfortable enough to tell me what happened, although what little she's told me fills in a lot of the broad questions. The thought makes me sick inside. Sure, I've toyed with my victims on occasion, but only those willing. It gives them a distraction that makes it easier for them when their life fades away. I wonder if the one that did this to her was an immortal. Does he still exist? Although I am reluctant to pry into such a personal matter, that question seems worth asking. I want to know if I should even be leaving her alone. I also want to know if I can look forward to tearing apart the coward who hurt her.

I wonder again about this group of my kind she thinks she is leading us to, the ones with golden eyes. I have never really lived well with a…, family, I suppose; even my own human family was divided by the war. I went off and enlisted young, and after I was changed I never saw them again. Alice seems to have been living in civilization all of these years, even if keeping people at a distance. I wonder what it would be like to walk in to a town each day for centuries. It is like she really is human, just frozen forever at a beautiful age. I wonder what eternity would be like with a beating heart, the ability to eat human food, to sleep, to cry, and most of all to blend in without the burning for human blood. Learning of her existence opens up a whole new world of what could be. I could have never imagined a being existed like her, the best of both worlds, if there is such a thing.

I wouldn't believe her for a moment if I couldn't see for myself. She is strong; much too strong to be human. And she saw me, through some strange sense of hers, and walked right up to me when all of the others shied away. And then there was her skin, when she walked in the sunlight it had just the slightest glitter to it. Beautiful. I'm almost certain it would be too subtle for human eyes to pick up. Also there is the venom I tasted in her blood. Not my own, somehow uniquely her, entwined in her being. The wound I gave her just yesterday is already starting to heal as well. She is unlike any creature I have ever encountered.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

Jasper… they're taking him. The man who created me is back, and he's taking Jasper away from me. I can see my father lying on the ground, his eyes still open, unblinking. As if unable to pass up a good nightmare, Charles is here too. As the man drags Jasper away, Charles comes and takes hold of me.

"You're all mine now, Mary. Just you and me. He's not coming back. Why would he want to? Look at you, fearful and shaking. You don't deserve him. You're already mine; you always have been. Why would he want you?"

I open my mouth to argue, but no sound comes out. I look up and see Jasper, still being dragged away. His eyes meet mine, and I see the truth in them, disgust and realization. His eyes drop to where Charles' meaty arm is locked around my waist. My gaze follows his, and I realize in dismay that Charles' hands are leaving stains on my skin, his fingerprints permanently etched into my flesh wherever his hands touch. I am marked, ruined. Jasper yanks his gaze back, turning away. His eyes speak louder than any verbal affirmation, he is disgusted. He knows my secret and he doesn't want me. He is leaving me to Charles. No one will come for me. Not even Jasper will save me. "Alice." Charles chants my name several times, menacingly, pulling me closer against him. I am trying to scream, but I can't hear anything but his voice.

My limbs begin to give out, as if my body has given up while my mind still struggles. I manage pathetic sobbing, but no longer have the strength to scream. I feel smothered, but not from Charles' groping, I feel as though something inside me is pressing together, forcing my heart to slow down and betray me. Although somewhat more weakly, I struggle to get free, but everything around me seems to be restraining me, as if the very air is under his control. He throws me to the ground and pins me beneath him. Not again. I have seen this nightmare play out so often, each time a little bit different than the real vision. I know I can't fight it, the only way for it to end is to just let it happen, but I can't help one last attempt at rebellion. I squeeze my eyes closed and with the last bit of my failing strength, I pull away, yanking my body to the side. Nothing moves. Everything has fallen silent. I cautiously open one eye. It's not Charles holding me down. It's Jasper.

*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*

Just south of the Canadian border, I catch the scent of another vampire, but the trail leads farther west, so I'm not too concerned. I continue my unhurried pace, finding a small farm town about halfway through the night. I find a troublemaker breaking into one of the houses, and he becomes my dinner. Ironically enough, I then finish his job, wandering soundlessly through the house and guessing at what might seem edible to Alice. I then turn back toward our camp in a slight jog, about human running speed. It is nearly dawn as I approach the border, and I allow myself to fully run for the first time tonight. Right before the first rays of sun peek up over the horizon, I enter the forest, about two miles from our camp. I wonder if she will have awakened already. What would she do if she woke up and I wasn't there? I find myself running faster.

A blood curdling scream reaches my sensitive ears, and I instinctively bring myself to an immediate stop, nearly sliding into an unfortunately placed oak in the process. Then my mind catches up with my instincts, it is her. I take off faster than I have ever run, closing the distance between us in less than a minute. I skid into the clearing, dropping into a crouch and scanning the area. I hear, smell and sense nothing. The only scents are a few small animals that had wandered by throughout the night. Nothing threatening is anywhere in the range of my senses, nor is there anything with emotions other than the terror coming off of Alice.

Thoroughly confused but satisfied that there is nothing dangerous in the camp, I easily find Alice. She is still in the small shelter, kind of. She is flailing wildly, screaming and crying, her face to the ground. There is something strange about her breathing pattern and heart rate, and I finally put the puzzle together. She is still asleep.

"Alice, wake up." I know she hears fairly well, but I don't know how much it will take to wake her up from this vivid nightmare. When she doesn't respond, I repeat it, louder. I'm not even sure she can hear me over her own screaming. I try using my gift, calming her and regulating her heartbeat. Her screaming subsides into sobbing and shaking. I have no idea if that is a step in the right direction, but she is still asleep. I try her name again, now that she has quieted, but still no response.

I can't think of anything else to do, she is still clearly distressed and still asleep. I know it is probably going to end badly, but the only thing I can think of is to try is shaking her, I hope that she will forgive me when she is awake and realizes what has happened. I take a quick breath to steady myself and reach for her shoulder, continuing to send as much peace and calm toward her as I can. As soon as my hand makes contact, I feel the current from earlier, mixed with the emotions and distress she is feeling, made stronger by proximity. Her heart rate is calmed by my gift, but the fear has consumed her.

I yank my hand away and yell her name, begging for her to wake up. She pulls away from my voice and hits her arm on one of the wooden pillars of the lean-to, hard. I catch her hand before she does it again and turn her to face the ceiling, restraining her from hurting herself further. Finally her eyes fly open, her features wild. She takes in me, her surroundings, the only exit behind me and my hands restraining her in a lightning fast sweep before her eyes come back, landing on my hands holding her arms above her head.

Her heart rate and breathing are almost even, thanks to my gift, but she looks far from alright. Her eyes are filled with some emotion I can't place, her feelings so complex that even with my extra sense, I am lost. She stays silent for a moment, probably regaining her bearings. I still can't place her emotions until she opens her mouth to speak. Then it all hits me, crushing despair. Before I can move, her eyes lock on mine. They look flat, dead. "Don't drag this out."

I have no idea what she's talking about. I decide not to move quite yet, at least until she's making enough sense to assure me she won't hurt herself. I try not to let my confusion show in my eyes in case that might set her off further. I decide to play along, hoping it will make her snap out of this, or at least give me a clue as to what I am dealing with. "Why not, Alice?"

She closes her eyes again, her voice dropping until it is nearly soundless. "Please, just get this over with. It can't be long now. Can't go on forever."

I go back over her words again and again, but they make no sense to me. I can't think of anything to do or say, and I realize somewhat self consciously that I am nearly lying on top of her, so I slowly loosen my grip on her wrists. I have no idea what to expect, but I don't dare move any farther away from her until I know that she is coherent.


	8. Nightmare

Chapter 8

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

As my body traitorously continues to calm down, I start to feel numb. Like when all of the blood rushes out of your head, but I feel like the blood has rushed out of all of me. This can't be happening. My dreams can't be getting this warped. I meet his eyes, feeling myself falling into despair. "Don't drag this out." I mean it to be a command, a warning to my subconscious that I'm not putting up with more of this, but it comes out as more of an exhausted plea. I look away.

He doesn't respond immediately but seems to be weighing my request.

"Why not, Alice?" I didn't expect my subconscious to be so twisted. What did he want from me? To beg, plead, spell it out for him? I close my eyes again so I can pretend like it is just like every other dream, just another terrible replay of my vision of Charles. I've done this before. I can make it. "Please, just get this over with. It can't be long now. Can't go on forever." It never lasts too long in the dreams, even the worst ones. I can make it, just like I always do. I can feel his hands holding my wrists; I wait for one of them to move, shifting to hold both of mine in one hand.

I can feel the chill through my skin to the sensitive veins in my wrists. So cold; this isn't Charles. I'm not going to be able to do this. I can't survive this one. I wait to feel his hands on me. Demanding, like every other time, but…different; this time it's him. I find the only thought that brings me some solace: when I wake up I will kill myself. It must be possible. I won't be able to be around him when I wake up anyway, not after this. He was my last chance at really living. Now Charles has taken from me the last thing I had left. Jasper. I can't live without him.

After what feels like an eternity, I feel his grip on my hands loosen ever so slowly, agonizing. I just want this to be over. When I wake up I will find a way to make it over forever. This just has to finish its course and then I will wake up, like every other time. I've tried every means of escape from my dreams over the years, but the only thing that brings them to an end is for it to play out. Sometimes he's too strong for me to get away, sometimes I run and he catches me. Every time it ends the same, then I can wake up.

As soon as his grip loosens enough I pull one of my hands free. I can feel the leather of his belt grazing my stomach. I shiver involuntarily at the contact, my body refusing to respond further despite the command from my brain to pull away, to scream, to cry in despair and betrayal. My own inability to control even my responses gives me the courage to force this to finish faster. I have to get this over with so I can wake up. I hook two fingers on the inside of his belt buckle, yanking hard. The sturdy leather snaps and the momentum knocks him on top of me entirely, our bodies flush up to the chest. Cold. I just have to make this finish. I snap my eyes open, and this time my voice doesn't waver. "Finish what you came for so that I can leave." It comes out as closer to a hiss, his eyes widen in response. I think I have finally made myself clear.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

Faster than I think to react, I feel her yank violently and I find myself lying on top of her. Before I can regain my bearings her eyes snap open and her words throw the last ten minutes into sharp perspective. "Finish what you came for so that I can leave." Comprehension and nausea hit at the same time. She isn't still asleep or confused; she woke up to me holding her down. She thinks I'm going to rape her.

I throw myself off of her, demolishing the shelter in my desperation to put space between us. I land in a crouch about ten feet away. If it were possible for me to be sick I'm sure I would have emptied my stomach right there. Before I can consider how it will be interpreted, a violent hiss of disgust escapes my lips. I can't believe what I've done.

She had turned to follow my motion; her cheek is now lying on the dirt, watching me with that same terrifyingly blank expression. Other than that miniscule change, she hasn't moved. She lays there on her back, one hand still above her head where I had been holding it and the other fallen on her ribs. I want to run away and never come back. I gave her reason to think me just like the sick bastard who gave her these nightmares, whoever he was. Her words before…she was asking me to take her quickly and leave her alone. I want to rip apart every tree in this state in frustration.

Despite years of preying on humans as a food source, for the first time in my existence I feel truly vile. As much as I want to escape, I can't leave. I can't bring myself to leave her here like this. Running would be cowardly. I have to stay and face her.

"What are you doing?" Her voice is strange and detached. I don't even know how to answer her. Guilt threatens to swallow me whole, but I have to explain, this may be my last chance.

"Alice, that's not why I'm here, you were having a nightmare, screaming, and I couldn't wake you up. You were hurting yourself." The last few words come out nearly pleading; she has no reason to believe me. I recognize that this shouldn't matter as much to me as it does, but I don't care.

A small spark of life returns to her visage before she quickly shuts it back out, a guarded and skeptical expression replacing it. She pulls herself off the ground into a sitting position, facing me. "Why didn't you move when I woke up?"

I answer as honestly as I can, even though it sounds unbelievably stupid now. "I wasn't sure you were ok and I didn't know what you would do, I was trying to keep you safe."

"Why didn't you move when I spoke to you?"

"I thought if I played along I'd figure out what you were talking about and if it was safe to let you go."

"That seems like a terrible idea. Is that how you usually deal with situations you don't understand?"

"There are very few situations I find myself in that I don't understand. And yes, it is." Either my gift is becoming defective or this crazy girl just feels too many things at the same time. I can't keep up and I end up confused around her more often than I'd like to admit. Her expression changes to mild annoyance and she speaks up again.

"Well next time you have a bright idea, ignore it. You're clearly not on the same page as the rest of us."

I just stare at her for most likely a full minute. I am probably doing a great fish impression, my eyes wide and mouth gaping. First, did she really just say that? I couldn't help but notice that she included herself in 'the rest of us' while excluded me. Although it might be biased, I'm pretty sure I'm the one acting normal, at least according to every interaction I've had with my kind. Then something else hit me. Just like when I bit her, tried to end her life, I think she is going to just brush this off. I had clearly scared her, and not only had I been touching her without her permission, again, but she woke up from some terrible nightmare to me pinning her to the ground where I then unknowingly feed her assumption that I was there to take advantage of her.

Then there was how she had responded. No hyperventilating or screaming, although this situation would have been much more appropriate for that response, given what she thought was happening. She had just lay there, not even struggling. I can't imagine what was going through her mind. The despair I felt from earlier made sense now. She was resigned, as if she hadn't wanted to believe it but had been expecting this from me all along. She probably knew that I was stronger than her, but even then she didn't struggle. It was as if she really had just given up, allowed herself to expect that and resigned herself to whatever I would do to her.

I finally recover and tear my shocked expression away from her. I pull myself back up to standing position and scanned quickly through the woods behind me, looking for anything to hold my attention other than the strangeness that just occurred. Finding nothing, I turn back to her. She has smoothed down her hair and dress and is reorganizing the contents of her small pack, as if she is just waiting for me to finish so we can be off. If that's how she wants to play it, I guess I can't complain. I'd rather not have to keep trying to justify my reactions. Especially now that I know they were nearly the worst thing I could have done. I realize that I am still frantically calming her. I turn back to watch her and pull back, wondering what being able to react on her own might bring.

She stops dead, her hand frozen in her bag.

"Are you alright?" I can't help but ask.

"What just happened?" It hadn't occurred to me that she might be able to tell the difference so abruptly, humans would just have attributed it to a mood swing, as do newborns. I guess I was less abrupt when using it on Maria, but only because she knew what I could do and was watching for it. It hadn't occurred to me that she would immediately notice the difference. However, I would rather not get in this conversation at the moment. I have the feeling that news of my gift is probably not going to go over well right now, and emotional manipulation doesn't sell even on good days. So I try to dodge the question by playing dumb, hoping she'll write it off.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't feel…forced…anymore. I can breathe on my own again. Something just happened and now I have control of myself again. I can't explain it."

I have never heard anyone describe my gift as feeling "forced," and that makes me wonder somewhat guiltily if trying to help with my gift just made this whole episode worse. I guess I should find out for future reference.

"What do you mean, 'forced'?"

Suddenly her eyes go wide and her emotions begin to pick back up, alarm and fear starting to build. Whatever this is, it can't be good. She speaks slowly and deliberately, as if daring me to lie to her.

"Did _you_ do that somehow?"

I want so badly to lie.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

I am a little cross with him for "playing along" if he really did have no idea what I was thinking, but I can see now that he meant no harm. He is still standing awkwardly at the edge of the clearing, his eyes searching for anything else to look at. I pick up my bag, its contents strewn about by Jasper's flight, and begin to slowly put my things back away. My heart rate is still painfully slow, as if refusing to respond to my mind at all. My limbs feel like lead, unwilling to move correctly and I feel strangely fatigued, even though I have spent little energy since waking. I smooth down my hair as best I can and try to get some of the wrinkles out of my dress.

I have picked up almost everything when the strangest feeling comes over me. It is like all of the emotion I couldn't feel in the past ten minutes hits all at once, my heart can race and my breathing can respond and I feel released from some unseen bond. I don't realize that I have stopped moving until I hear him speak.

"Are you alright?"

I have never felt anything quite like this before, and I wonder if he felt it too. It could be some sort of gift or strange talent. I wonder if whoever is using it is still around, hopefully Jasper can figure out what it was and keep me from it. "What just happened?"

"What do you mean?" I can't imagine that he didn't feel that, it seems unlikely that someone was only trying to affect me when Jasper is clearly stronger and more dangerous. Maybe he did feel it; he just doesn't know what I'm asking about. I decide to try to explain it to see if that helps.

"I don't feel…forced…anymore. I can breathe on my own again. Something just happened and now I have control of myself again. I can't explain it."

"What do you mean, 'forced'?"

I listen carefully, but there is no one else in the woods with us. It seems impossible that neither of us had heard anyone else close enough to affect me, or that Jasper wouldn't have been targeted as the bigger threat, why would someone come upon me already prone and decide to mentally attack me rather than Jasper, the clear threat, and no one was here other than…him. It wouldn't make sense unless he was doing it. I am afraid to ask because I don't want the answer. I level my best glare at him and just do it.

"Did _you_ do that somehow?"

He looks immediately uncomfortable and that is all the answer I need. My false confidence crumbles and I stumble back from him instinctively, my mind reeling from the implications of his confession. Had he lied to me when he said he didn't know what I meant? Why else would he have been trying to incapacitate me? Was he just testing it out to now to see what he can do with it later? Had he done it to me before? Could he control me any other way? Did I even come to him on my own?

"Why did you do that to me?"

"I was trying to help; usually it helps people who are upset. I wanted you to wake up and stop flailing around." He is speaking quickly and his words are starting to blend together, but it doesn't faze me. This time my cynical side has caught him and is determined to make him confess.

"Why? So I wouldn't fight back?" I can hear the acid in my voice but my focus is so fully on trying to keep from snapping that I can't do anything about it.

"No, I told you, that's not what I was trying to do. You were having a nightmare, and you were terrified." Before I can even react, his demeanor changes and his expression becomes haunted. "I could feel it; fear, despair, disgust and…hopelessness." Each emotion crosses his face as he names it, as if he was recalling it in some vivid memory. What the hell does he mean he could_ feel_ my emotions? No amount of sleep talking could have given him that specific of a read on my dream.

I leave enough of the sharpness in my tone to let him know I will not be evaded. "Tell me everything. What can you do? What have you done to me?"

"I can…feel, or sense, emotions. I experience them along with the person. It's involuntary; in fact _not_ feeling them takes an immense amount of effort and concentration. I can also change emotions. I can make someone calm or upset or angry, but I can't control what you're thinking. So if you're really mad, you will still know that you are and why, but your body won't react correctly so you'll decide that you probably aren't really that angry. As for when I have used it on you, this is the only time I've done it actively. I've felt your emotions the whole time, as it is nearly impossible to be with someone more than an hour or two and not read their emotions. It would be like you looking at someone speaking to you for an hour but purposefully not seeing the color of their shirt. It's possible; it's just very uncomfortable and takes a lot of focus."

I am still unsure, but I have decided to at least stick around long enough to ask some questions. "You've never used it on me before?"

"Not actively, like I said, the passive part is hard to turn off."

"Can you make me do things I don't want to do?"

"No. I can make you feel things, but you choose how to respond to the emotions, and I've found that most people respond to them the same way they would if they felt them normally, so I can just elicit a response you would have given anyway."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not really something I announce to strangers. Why don't you tell me what your nightmare was about? It's just a defense."

I guess that made some sense. There is no way in hell I'm telling him about that nightmare so maybe he is allowed his secrets too. Now he told me and I can look for it, maybe it will be alright to stay. I cautiously return to the rearranging of my bag. "You promise not to do that again?" I chance another look up at him to gauge his reaction. He seems…thoughtful? Is it that hard of a question?

"You don't want me to try and help you wake up? Stop you from hurting yourself?"

That's an easy question. "No. I heal quickly, and if you keep that up I will leave. I would rather feel for myself, thank you."

"What about in an emergency? Life or death?"

"What _possible_ dire situation could be solved by manipulating my emotions?"

"Someone is looking for you and you're scared, I can keep your heart rate and breathing calm so you aren't found, you meet one of my kind who preys on fear, I can stop you from inviting attack."

"Can't you fight off a hungry vampire?"

"First, that depends on the vampire. One on one there are very few that can seriously hurt me, but desperation makes the fight harder. Second, it isn't just being able to fight a predator off, it's also protecting you. It would be simple to steer the fight so it put you in the middle."

"But you don't like my blood." I notice a small wince from him at my recognition, but he hides it quickly.

"Some will. And you smell…wonderful." I can't hold back the slight shiver of fear at his tone, but I don't think he notices. "By the time they've built it up and attacked they won't care. They'll drain you before the taste even registers."

The description of brutality makes me wonder again why I am still with him; he is a part of the race he is describing. But before I can even finish the thought the chasm of loneliness cracks open just slightly to remind me of where I came from and I am again resolved to stay. I realize that I've finished collecting my things somewhere in the middle of that conversation and I pick myself up off the ground, ready to go. He seems to have remembered something and dashes back toward the tree line, returning almost before my mind can register his exit.

He produces a small collection of random foods and holds them out for my inspection. "Here, I brought these back for you."

Although I have never really pondered Jasper's actual age, it is apparent by his choices that it's been a long time since he was human. In his arms he has collected the strangest assortment of things, some edible and some not so much. He has a jar of soap, for one thing, probably stored in the pantry which would lead to his confusion. He has also selected a preserved jar of pickles, and one of peaches, a small tin of crackers and some sort of smoked meat…no telling what kind.

I put on my best excited expression and took it all from him, thanking him profusely. I begin to stuff it in my bag, figuring I can decide what to do with it later, when he reaches out as if to stop me, but thinks better of it just shy of touching me.

"You need to eat something, I've been with you almost two days and you haven't stopped to eat once."

"I don't really eat much, and I'm not hungry now. I had a snack while I was gone on my bath last night." I am not a great liar, but I haven't had trouble convincing humans with my charm, especially on an issue such as this where they have no reason to doubt me. I hope Jasper is no different, although I'm afraid he will be more difficult to convince.

"Unless you were back there snacking on river weeds you're lying to me, I would have smelled the blood on you." His expression is unconvinced and I try again, hoping he will drop it.

"I eat neatly, what can I say? Let's get going before we waste half the day here talking, I have a feeling we're close. I'll eat again when we get there."

He grabs one of the jars from my bag and pushes it toward me, insistent. Unfortunately for the point he is trying to make, he chooses the soap. I roll my eyes at him, repacking the soap and pulling out the peaches. I eat a few to pacify him and put the rest in my bag, raising my eyebrows expectantly. He finally seems ready to concede, turning toward the north. I quickly gather my things and catch up, relieved to be on the trail again. We're getting close.

As we weave through the thick trees I see him sneak glances at me every once in a while. He seems as if he wants to ask me something, but can't decide if he should. However, this gets little thought as we start to pick up speed.

The sugar from the peaches is buzzing through my bloodstream, giving me the energy to keep his pace without too much trouble. We will make good time if I can keep this up, and the kinds of trees are starting to look similar to those in my visions. I don't know why, but I feel like we might find them today and I am impatient. If he notices the change in my step he doesn't comment, leaving my mind to wander.

In my visions I have seen different combinations of five people, all of them usually with light golden eyes, although the giant man had red eyes for a little while in the beginning. There are two women with them, one slightly older than the other. Both are devastatingly beautiful with light colored hair. They seem content with the others and I think they must be connected to the other three somehow, although my visions of their interaction have given little away. Then there are the three men; two normal sized vampires and a giant, the one I saw with blood red eyes in the beginning. I know why their eyes are gold; Mark's eyes had been like that, too, because he did not consume human blood. It made him more strong willed and compassionate, he said. I wonder whose blood shone in the big one's eyes when I first saw him. I shiver at the thought. Jasper shoots me another odd look, but I can't help it if he's paying too much attention to me, he'll just have to wonder. Even if they didn't turn out to be who I hoped they would, I still need to go find out. If it doesn't end well, at least I'll have Jasper with me.

"Can I ask you a question?" My thoughts are interrupted, but I realize looking at him that he has probably been working up to asking whatever question this is for a while, a slightly uncertain expression on his usually confident features.

"You're welcome to _ask_." I offer him, somewhat guardedly. I don't know what he's been thinking, but it seems likely I may not want to answer, so I give him the most honest response I can.

"The nightmares, the flashbacks, the panic attacks, who was he?"


	9. Arrival

Sorry for the wait! Here you are!

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

Having finally gotten up the nerve to ask, I'm not at all sure that it was a good idea. A hiss escapes her lips and the contemplative and curious expression drops off her features. She turns her face away from me, keeping her wild dark hair as a barrier between us. She is silent; the only sound, our footfalls landing together. I wonder if I have pushed too much too soon. She has just found out about my gift and had a very emotional morning. I probably should have approached this another time, but I need to know if this… _beast_… is still out there, if he's still a threat to her. I feel like she's been silent forever. I decide to rephrase in a way that allows her to answer only the question I really need to know.

"_What_ was he? Is he still alive?"

She still says nothing, her eyes glued to the ground to her side as she runs. I notice the irony, that she will take her eyes off of me when she is upset, but not when we're just running along happily. The silence lengthens, and I am starting to think she isn't going to answer. I want to back down, but I really need to know at least whether or not I should be on the lookout. After what seems like an eternity, I hear her inhale to answer.

"He was human. He's gone now." I have no idea if I should expect anything more on the subject, so I don't respond. At least I can be at ease that he's not coming for her. Part of me is disappointed that I will never encounter him, but I am glad, for Alice's peace of mind, that he is gone. If he was human there would be no way that he could overpower her now, she is much stronger than any human. So it must have been before she was… whatever she is now. I don't know how long that's been, but I can't imagine carrying that image with her, alone, for who knows how many years. I wonder how old she was, but I'm not sure I dare to ask any more questions about him. Again, she breaks the silence.

"You must think I'm crazy, or pathetic. It was a long time ago, but I haven't been close to anyone since then, I haven't had to worry about questions or people knowing. No one has touched me in years- not since my father died right after I was changed."

Her father- was that the answer? Or were those events unrelated? My jaw clenches unbidden, but I hide it well. I keep my face a studied calm, unwilling to react and make her reconsider telling me this. "I don't think that. I think you were terribly wronged."

She finally turns toward me, tears streaming down her face. I have no idea how to respond, but she keeps moving, so I do too. "Nothing ever happened. It was all in my head, in these visions; I have no right to feel this way, to be afraid."

I am taken aback by this revelation; I had never considered these visions of hers could be so twisted. Then… all of the fear, all of the memories, the flashbacks she has are from… a vision? They never happened to her… like a dream, but with… truth behind it, with her conviction that it is going to be the truth, just not yet. She watched her own nightmare, a horror with her as the star… what sort of cruel joke was this gift of hers? What had she seen in a vision all those years ago that scared her so much that she had let no one touch her since? I feel absolutely helpless; I couldn't have imagined how much she carries in her eternal mind. I can do nothing to hunt the monsters in her mind, he might as well still be alive and following her, closer to her than I am now. I open my mouth to attempt to find something consoling to say, but I can think of nothing. What do you tell someone who is chained to her demons? I make an attempt anyway, although it sounds useless even to me.

"That's much worse. Of course you have every right." She looks away and doesn't acknowledge my pathetic attempt at validation. This is fairly unsurprising, and I get the feeling that this conversation might be over.

I don't know what happened to the old, confident, strong uncaring Jasper, but sometime in the last two days, it seems to have given way to this strange voice inhabiting my mind. I care about her, strangely enough, and that doesn't bother me, which is even weirder. I've almost given up wondering at this, however, because it is becoming… oddly normal, almost comforting, to care about her. It's like it comes naturally to me, like I was made to herd newborns, manipulate emotions, and watch out for Alice. It is so strange, the difference two days can make in an existence of decades. She danced over to me in the diner as if she expected me for a planned event, so certain that I was who she was looking for that I wanted to believe her, however insane it sounded. Now I'm blindly following her to who knows where, but I don't really care where, because I'm going there with her.

I hear Alice's foot catch on the edge of a tree root. It seems odd, we ran hours yesterday and she never stumbled over anything. I wonder if she is getting tired, running again after not sleeping much, or if maybe she's distracted by the content of our last conversation. I don't have long to consider this, however, because before I can even open my mouth to ask, she is sprawled out on the ground; her eyes open, but glassy. At first, I'm put in mind of her episode two days ago, but this seems very different. She doesn't feel afraid, in fact she really doesn't feel any differently than she did a moment ago running next to me. She isn't moving except for the steady beat of her heart and consistent breathing. I can't find anything wrong with her, but I don't dare touch her, just in case. I kneel down next to her, at an absolute loss of what to do. I don't move. She doesn't move.

After what seems like an eternity, the light comes back to her eyes. She blinks once, twice, and pulls herself up off the ground like she is quite accustomed to waking up flat on her face and going about her merry way. She looks at me, expectantly, as if I was the one hindering our progress. For the second time today, I am left staring at her, astonished.

"What was that?"

"I know where we're going now, and we're almost there! Let's go!"

Other than learning that for the last two days we have been traveling _without_ her knowing where we were going, my mind still can't get over what just happened.

"What?"

She starts tapping her foot impatiently, beckoning to me like a pet. "Come on, Jasper. I just saw where we're going and it isn't far from here."

"Saw?" I ask dumbly, is this was what her visions look like from the outside?

"Yes, _saw_, as in I was just looking at the house and the street and the trees and it looks like these trees and is a little to the west, so let's _go_."

I can see that I'm not going to get anymore answers until I comply with her request, so I pick myself up and follow her, noticing with small satisfaction that if I stay within her peripheral vision she doesn't slow to keep me in front of her. I realize that it's a concession she has to make if she is leading, but it still makes me secretly happy. I don't know how long we have until we get there, so I figured I better ask anything I want to know now.

"So that's what your visions look like?"

"Yep. Usually I don't fall, but I'm also not usually running through a forest at the time. If I am just walking, I can just hold still for a minute and pass it off on a dizzy spell or some silly thing like that."

I really wonder about what she said earlier, about whatever crazy thing all being a vision, I wonder how realistic they are, and from what perspective she sees them. I knew I couldn't ask earlier because the subject was closed, but I see my chance to get some answers without them being associated with what I am really wondering. "What is it like?"

"My sight goes away and all of the sudden, I'm looking at something else, and I'm watching a scene play out that is going to happen. Most of the time it directly involves me, meeting people or how people will react to certain things, which is handy to head off people touching me or reacting badly, but once in a while I see other people, if they're going to be important to me. If I see someone I've never met around other people, then I just wait, because eventually I will see myself meeting them and find out who they are."

"Like with me?"

"Exactly. I'd seen you for years, with a vicious looking female and a bunch of violent creatures biting you, wandering off by yourself, even walking down the street right before you came. One day I saw you meeting me in that café, so I came there every day for weeks until one day you finally came."

This information was new to me, she knew about my time with Maria, at least some of it. I wonder, somewhat self consciously, what all she had seen. I had done some things I wasn't proud of over the years. I have allowed myself to get distracted; I have more to learn about her visions before the opportunity closes. I'll find out another time what she saw of Maria and me.

"Do you see a situation like you are looking out your eyes if you're in the vision, or do you see it from the outside looking in?"

"Whether or not I'm personally in the vision, I see it third person. It's like I'm watching a movie of myself, except..."

I wait for her to continue, but she seems to be debating sharing whatever the end of that sentence is with me. "Except?" I remind her.

"Except if I'm in the vision, I can sense what the 'me' in the vision senses. I can smell, hear, taste and… feel what I would in that situation."

That explains the horror written on her features during her nightmare and her… _episode_ two days ago. She was not only a front row seat to her own horror, knowing that what she was seeing was going to become fact rather than some contrived fiction, she also felt it happening as if it really was. She might as well have gone through it, and if my guess is right, two nights ago it all happened again. It was worse than it actually happening; much worse, because it didn't just happen once, it happens again every time she sees that vision. She can _feel_ him when she remembers. She was feeling him when she screamed at my touch… and when she tore her skin and dress to ribbons. She was feeling his hands when she struggled against me restraining her. She has every right to feel whatever the hell she wants to, that is just twisted. I open my mouth to tell her so, but then remember that we aren't talking about her visions in that context, which was the whole point of asking these questions now in the first place.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

I'm not entirely sure where he is going with this conversation, but I'm too distracted to do much other than answer his questions. We're almost there. Just like I had questioned myself a few days ago with Jasper, I wonder if this is really a good idea. What if they aren't what I think they are? What if they hurt us, hurt Jasper? What if they try to take me away? I have no idea why they might want to do any of this, but my mind is in overtime paranoia mode. We're so close, only a minute or two from entering the clearing with their house. I need to just turn off my mind and go; it has worked out fine with Jasper, right? I have to know either way. He'll keep me safe.

I draw a deep breath. Almost there. It'll all be good, I know it will. I've seen them for almost as long as Jasper, and now I've found him so it is time to find them too. I reach for his hand, willing myself not to show the concern in my thoughts. I have him with me, it'll be alright. I can see the clearing ahead, so I slow until we are walking, hand in hand. He looks at me questioningly, but doesn't pull to move faster. I look ahead meaningfully to the large brick house, and he seems to understand. We don't talk as we walk the last several hundred yards, both lost in our own thoughts. He sneaks glances at me every couple seconds, but he stays quiet. He's probably wondering if this is a good idea too. I can't answer him even if he asks, so I keep the silence diligently. A few more steps. It's still fairly early and the sun is still to the east, so coming from the south, the house partially shades the lawn. We are able to walk all the way up to the front door staying in the shade, and Jasper looks at me, unsure. Although I am not sure what will happen, I am sure this is the right place. I turn and knock on the door, holding on tighter to his hand.

I feel Jasper tense before I hear the even footsteps myself and then the door swings open. One of the vampires from my vision stands there, looking even more striking in person. His blonde hair and gold eyes are striking together, while his features are surprised, but inviting.

"Can I help you?" He asks calmly.

I don't know what Jasper will say, given the chance, so I respond immediately. "I'm Alice, and this is Jasper. We've come a long way to see all of you."

He looks surprised, but recovers quickly. "Come right in, sit down. What brings you here? And, if you don't mind me asking, how do you know about us?"

I falter a moment, wondering the best way to explain it. I decide to dodge the question for now. "I'm not actually sure what brings us here, I just knew that we had to meet you, so I dragged Jasper here with me. I don't know why, but you guys are different, and I needed to come see for myself. Where are the others?"

"Well, my wife and son are out hunting to spend some time together. My daughter and new son in law are here, upstairs."

A family, he describes them in very family terms. How could that be? "Were you all family before you were changed?"

"No, we are all from different times."

"Then how are they your family? It's not possible." I'm incredibly curious about this point, as I had never really thought of vampires living together as… family.

"O h, they're my family now. I married Esme many years ago and then sort of adopted Edward when he was changed. I found Rosalie later and took her in, and then she found Emmett and they just fell for each other. So who exactly are you again?"

"I'm Alice. I… saw you guys. I have these visions, I have since I was little, and for a long time I've seen you guys and known that I should come here, maybe even have the chance to be part of your family someday. I just had to come here and see what you were really like."

"What kind of visions?"

I know that this is odd to tell a stranger, but I just know that they're going to be important to me, and I'm willing to risk it. Jasper has barely moved since we sat down, rigid and alert next to me. I try to tug his hand to get his attention, but he doesn't budge. "I see the future. Only sometimes, and only when it involves me. It can always change if people change their minds, but it's what is going to happen if everything stays the same. So I saw you guys, and I knew that we were supposed to come and find you. I don't know why, but I think you might be important to our future."

He looks a little perplexed, but tries to hide it on his features. "So, you came to… meet us, from some vision you had, because you want to stay with us?"

"Maybe…" I admit. It does sound strange, but not any stranger than it is. I flash him my best persuasive smile, hoping that he might decide to believe me by some miracle and not be scared away. It seems to work, sort of.

"Well… I'm not sure about that, but you're welcome to meet everyone and stay with us for a couple days and we can take it from there."

"Sounds great!" He isn't leaving or running, so I'll agree to about anything.

"Then I guess you should meet the family, at least the part that's here. I'm Carlisle, by the way." He turns toward the back wall and Jasper stands, pulling me along with him and partially behind him. I try to step around him, but his hold slides from hand in hand to holding my wrist, keeping me firmly in place. "Rosalie, Emmett, could you please come in?"

What do you guys think?

Thanks for reading!


	10. Boundaries

Chapter 10

*_*_*_*_Carlisle*_*_*_*_*

The whole thing is so strange and highly unlikely, but this mismatched duo just shows up on our doorstep like a long lost relative and seems ready to move in. The stranger part is that I have a bizarre inclination to allow them. I can hear Rosalie and Emmett at the door. I wonder how she will react to them in the house; I'm never sure how she will behave around men of our kind. They seemed to have been coming in until they caught wind of the little one's strange scent. Emmett isn't exactly a newborn anymore, nonetheless he's still young, and she is just watching out for him. Jasper senses them outside the door, and it seems to be making him uncomfortable.

Although much smaller than my newest son, Jasper is most certainly a warrior; even if you could ignore the countless scars on every exposed inch of skin, it is nearly impossible to miss his calculated actions and reactions. He moves with his environment, probably nearly unconsciously, to keep himself on good footing should a fight break out. He keeps Alice as a shadow, guiding her to place himself between us. I wonder if she even sees it, or what she would think if she knew. They seem like an incredibly odd pair. Tiny, confident, eccentric Alice with battle hardened Jasper, always prepared for a fight. I wonder absently how they ever met in the first place.

Alice is much more difficult to read. Her appearance gives few clues, she is wearing a plain, faded, floral print dress and her hair and jewelry are simple. She is soft-spoken, but has a strange undertone of certainty in her words, as if she may not be sure of us but is absolutely sure of herself. She clearly seems to be the one who decided to come here in the first place, but she doesn't seem to notice or mind Jasper standing in or speaking for her. By the same token she clearly couldn't have forced Jasper to do anything he didn't want to, and it is fairly clear he doesn't want to be here. So she must mean something to him to come along and have such a protective manner toward her.

I'm not sure what to expect from them, but I wish that Edward and Esme were home already to help me sort it out. I always feel slightly blind without my son here to give me a heads up to intentions and Esme to stand with me and read her reaction. I suppose that at the very least I can gage Rosalie to see if there is any chance that she might be alright with Jasper in the house. They have to meet some time, and this seems like as good a time as any. Nothing should be able to go too far wrong with Emmett and me right here to keep the peace and mediate. I invite them in and Rosalie seems a little sheepish at being caught at the door. I notice that she walks in first, giving the illusion of independence. She's trying, growing. I know it's only an illusion though, because I have no doubt that if for any reason Emmett hadn't been two steps behind her, where she expects him, she would have bolted. She eyes Jasper warily. She sees the scars too, it is nearly impossible to miss them even in a cursory glance. She seems to read them naturally as a sign of danger, and I notice that she sticks close by me.

The next few seconds pass in a blur. I can only measure their brevity by a single beat of Alice's heart. Emmett takes his second step into the room. Jasper, in the same innocuous manner, shifts slightly to place himself more directly between Alice and Emmett. Alice's eyes widen a fraction; she seems alarmed by Emmett's size. Rose's attention snaps from Jasper to Alice, trying to decide if her fear is of Emmett or of Jasper. Alice measures Emmett's approach and recoils just slightly in the same instant as Jasper catches her hand and pulls her more tightly behind him, preparing for trouble. Emmett takes a deliberate step toward Rose but not any closer to them, trying to diffuse the situation. It's obvious to me that it's unintentional; Jasper's grip wouldn't have hurt one of our kind, but I can hear the tiniest crack as her little wrist gives the smallest bit in protest. Rose launches herself at him. Alice holds her breath, barely getting her arm back before Rosalie hits him, the momentum carrying them across the room.

Emmett and I react a half second later, getting to them and pulling them apart. I know Emmett wants to go to Rosalie, but we both know that he's much more likely to be able to restrain Jasper than I. Even in Emmett's mighty grip I know it won't be long until he gets free. In the moment it takes me to breathe an unnecessary calming breath, I realize what I've missed. My eyes fall on Alice, still on the other side of the room. Her heart rate is too high. She seems to have literally melted, the vibrant, confident creature instantly replaced by a cowering child. Her breathing is shallow and fast, way too fast. Rosalie is still struggling against me as Emmett hauls Jasper toward the door. I shake her once to get her attention and direct her toward Alice. She struggles all the more, trying to get to Jasper. I hold her tighter. Not now. There are more important things I need her to do. Like help me stabilize Alice.

She's shaking violently, her heart rate hard and her breathing erratic. She's having some sort of panic attack and the edges of her lips are starting to take on a bluish tint, oxygen not having time to circulate properly as she hyperventilates. Rose casts a hateful glance toward the door that leads outside toward Jasper but then turns toward Alice. I release her, and we approach Alice carefully. Her state is hard to read, she varies wildly from eyes glued shut to open and frantically jumping between Rosalie and me. We come to about three feet from her and Rosalie refuses to move any closer. I know she's trying to respect Alice's space, but right now Alice needs to be brought back to reality, we don't really have much time for consideration of her comfort. I highly doubt she has any idea what's happening anyway.

I call her name, gently trying to pry her hands away from her hair. Her fingernails are red from deep scratches in her scalp. I check Rosalie for reaction, but she seems to be too focused to care. I wonder now if it was a mistake to keep Rosalie here and restrain Jasper outside, it's possible that he could have done something to help, but I know that my daughter would never forgive me for that, so I push the thought from my mind. I pick her up quickly and move her to the middle of the room so she won't hurt herself thrashing around. I hear a shout from outside and realize in relief that Edward and Esme have arrived back. In another moment she is beside me, holding Alice's hand and stroking her face.

Alice is still struggling, but slightly less violently. Her head turns toward Esme's voice and I catch slight of a slight shine on the side of her neck. She is still being partially restrained, making this a bad idea, but curiosity gets the best of me. I carefully move her wild hair from the side of her neck. The long half moon shaped mark shimmers back at me, delicate pink lacing the iridescence in the forming scar. It's obviously recent, and I can't smell anyone on her but Jasper and my family. Apparently Jasper is not as innocent in all of this as I had assumed. I'll have to watch a little more carefully.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

The hall door swings open slowly and the younger woman from my visions walks in, looking slightly shy at being caught at the door. Her golden hair is loose behind her and she reminds me of my sister from so long ago. She offers a small smile to Carlisle, but eyes Jasper carefully, keeping Carlisle between herself and him. Following a few steps behind her is the giant. He's huge. His eyes no longer burn red but his stride screams power and authority. Jasper's hold on my wrist tightens impossibly further. I bite back a whimper as my wrist protests his hold, and before I can react the room has shifted.

I saw them move, but not clearly enough to react. In a single moment, the docile looking woman has launched herself at Jasper, wrenching his hand away from me and hissing murderous words in his face. Carlisle and the giant have hurled themselves after them, rushing to restrain them. Before I can fully process what is happening all four of them are on the other side of the room, Rosalie restrained by Carlisle and Jasper still maintaining a valiant effort to escape Emmett's mighty grasp.

My sight begins to swirl wildly between reality and fiction, pulling from dreams, visions, memories and fears and blending them until I can barely tell the difference. I see the man from my dream dragging Jasper away, and then I see the giant doing so, then I can feel Charles' hands on my skin, but when I open my eyes again his touch is replaced by Carlisle. Emmett is stronger than Jasper, I'm not safe. I sink onto the ground, pulling my knees to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible. No matter how small I get, how much I work to be unnoticeable, I still end up in the same places, unsafe.

Coming was a bad idea, what will they do to me? Not even the woman is safe, she attacked him. Not safe. It repeats in my head as a mantra. They can hurt me, any of them. I've marched myself into a den of wolves, three against one; Jasper can't possibly take them. What will the giant do to me when he's done with Jasper? Run, my mind says, but my body won't obey. Charles, my father, Jasper, Emmett, the images are flashing through my mind at breakneck speed. Not safe. I can't see anything or hear anything; it's all faded into a dull roar and constant stream of disjointed images. Someone is touching me. Get away. I can't see, but I struggle to get free. Far away I can hear voices, but I just want to escape. Then I can't move. It's gone silent. I can feel cold hands on my wrists and ankles. Not safe.

Now a new voice is comforting me, telling me that I'm safe, I'll be alright, to open my eyes and come back. I haven't heard this voice before, but it's soft, beautiful. I don't know what good opening my eyes again will do; open or closed, they've been just as likely to show me fiction, but I slowly open them, wanting to honor her request. Her face is beautiful, and it lights up with the most delightful expression when she sees me respond. For a moment I forget everything else and study her face. The words escape before I can even think them. "You're even more beautiful in real life." She reminds me of my mother, her expression full of concern and compassion. I wonder irrationally if she really is my mother, if maybe I've died and found her.

That thought is quickly dismissed when I feel something shift on my arm and realize I am being held down. My eyes fly to find the source of my incarceration, my breathing picking up again. Rosalie and Carlisle are holding me down still, but as soon as my eyes fall on Carlisle's hands on my upper arms he releases his grip, moving slowly away from me. Rosalie lets go as well, staying closer however, kneeling next to the woman speaking to me. I don't even think about it, the second I'm free I launch myself toward the woman with the kind face. I know I can't outrun the other two, but I have an unfounded certainty that she will keep me safe.

"There now, welcome back sweetheart. It's nice to see your beautiful eyes. I'm Esme, and I understand that you came a long way to visit us. I'm afraid we haven't been very good hosts yet, but I assure you we'll make it up to you."

The fog from my mind is clearing, and I realize what is missing from the room, or rather whom. I pull myself to sit up quickly, a bit too quickly with only this morning's sugar in my blood. "Where is Jasper?"


	11. Satin

Chapter 11

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

I am going to rip them to ribbons if they don't get out of my way. The giant one hauled me out of the room, away from Alice, her eyes vacant, crumpled on the floor, shaking. The man was a freaking hulk. Nothing less than sheer force could have torn me away from her when she was like that. I was nearly free of him too, but then the other one came. He is about my size, but he seems able to preempt my every move. No sooner than I make a decision he is able to block it, using himself and the big one as his own personal chess pieces. I have to get to her. I can't believe that I hurt her; I was so focused on protecting her from the brute in front of me. I'd been so tense, suspicious of what they were up to in the next room, just waiting. It seemed like an ambush setup, and I had to be sure I could get her out of there if I needed to. And maybe I wouldn't have needed to if I hadn't accidentally hurt her, but now she is afraid and I am stuck out here with these two infuriating creatures keeping me away from her.

The crazy woman had caught me so off guard that I barely had time to release Alice as to not rip her arm off before she had me across the room with her momentum. Her words and expression are burned in my mind. 'Don't you dare touch her.' I don't have to know much about her to see that there is more to this seemingly docile woman than meets the eye, probably a past not dissimilar to Alice's. That, at least, is promising to Alice's choice. Maybe she can help her get through this if I can ever get back to her to make sure she's alright. I can feel her calming down so I know that they're not hurting her, but I have to get to her. The irrational fear is clouding my planning, probably making me even easier to read and deter. The smaller one stops, mid block, as if listening to someone. I hear nothing, but he whispers something under his breath to the other. I'm sick of these games, but before I can take advantage of their distraction, I hear footsteps. Alice. She's coming out of the house, toward the yard where we are.

The man who opened the door exits first, shooting a warning look at me to tell me to stay put. As long as they don't intend on keeping Alice from me, I intend no more trouble. Following him is the blond woman from before, her eyes still distrustful of me. Finally, I catch sight of wild black hair. She is following the woman who showed up with the other boy, and I note with relief that the woman allows her to stay a step behind, keeping everyone in sight. When she catches sight of me I feel her tension ease further, her eyes quickly scanning me for damage. She walks carefully toward the two men between us. I move to meet her, but a low growl from the bigger one stops me, I can't let her get caught up in this. She doesn't hear it, luckily, and keeps walking slowly, inching around them to keep the small group behind her in sight, while not taking her eyes off of the two in front of me. The smaller one breathes something else unintelligibly to the other and slowly begins to move out of her way, reaching the other and pulling him along too, his eyes never leaving hers. She seems to understand the gesture and makes it the rest of the way to me, abandoning her peripheral vision at the last second and launching herself into my arms.

I am a bit surprised at the proximity, we've never been this close, but I instinctively cradle her neck in one hand, wrapping the other arm around her waist securely. I hold her to me, her feet barely touching the ground, and she relaxes. My skin is burning from her touch, the electricity that runs between us buzzing in the air. If my heart still remembered how to beat, it would certainly be racing, betraying my shock and relief. I keep my eyes on the group, now together in front of the house.

There are five now, the man who let us in, the two who had been keeping me out here, the woman who had attacked me and the other woman I had seen only briefly before. All I can sense from the group as a whole is wonder and curiosity, although from the younger blond I still feel a hint of distrust and disapproval. She makes no effort to hide it from her eyes, so I'm sure the others notice as well. For a moment everyone is silent, not knowing how to proceed. I hear Alice take a deep breath against my chest and I nearly let my mind run away with me. Her scent is hypnotizing, and her warm breath against me is nearly my undoing. She carefully unwinds herself from my arms, effectively pulling me back to the present, and turns toward the group, her hands finding both of mine and pulling me with her, a breath behind, as she takes a step toward them.

"Um…can we start over?" She asks quietly. When no one responds, she seems to take it as an affirmation and continues. "I'm Alice, and this is Jasper. We don't want to fight anymore, and he's not going to hurt me. We just want to see if we might belong with you guys, we haven't had a home yet."

Her shy words seem to dissolve the tension just enough to break the spell, and everyone moves. The big one ushers his wife inside, the smaller one walks over to his 'father', starting a quiet conversation on their way inside and the woman who had come late beckons us back toward the living room we had previously occupied. She pulls me along with her, releasing one of my hands to walk beside her.

"You alright?" I ask, discretely examining her wrist for bruising.

"Yeah. I'm ok. I just let crazy get the best of me. I was afraid they'd hurt you."

"They were afraid I was hurting you. I wasn't paying attention to my grip; I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I felt your fear and his curiosity and lost track of everything else."

"I'm alright. Let's just try to try this again with less violence, okay?"

"I'll do my best."

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

When we enter the room, the tension seems to have died down a bit. Rosalie and Emmett are not in sight, and I feel slightly bad that I'm relieved by that. The new male, presumably Edward, is sitting in a recliner angled toward the couch where Carlisle and Esme sit. I lead Jasper to the opposite couch, trying not to shy away from either of the males too obviously. Jasper puts a protective arm around my shoulders when I get settled on the couch. I've noticed the conversation across the room has gotten stranger. Only Edward is speaking now, but still responding as if Carlisle was still addressing him. After a few more short answers they turn toward us.

I decide that I should probably make an effort to explain before they go on, so I speak before he gets the chance. "I'm sorry for my behavior earlier. I guess you could say that I don't handle violence well. Jasper wasn't trying to hurt me, he was just trying to keep me safe from Emmett…" because he could sense that I was terrified of your son in law. Not exactly a way to endear myself, but I can't think of a more diplomatic way to explain. "I tend to be a little jumpy because of some of my past experiences, and I'm sorry if I startled anyone with my… breakdown… back there. I would understand completely if you guys wanted nothing more to do with us, and we'd leave you in peace." I'm terrified that they'll take my offer, but almost as terrified that they won't. I know that I can do this; I just have to remember that they mean me no harm, and Jasper is here to protect me.

"Oh no, darling, of course we want you both to stay with us. My daughter is sensitive to violence as well… just in a different way. She meant no harm."

Before I can respond Jasper cuts in, as the last part is obviously addressed to him. "I understand, ma'am, I forget sometimes that Alice is a bit more fragile than I'm used to. I had no intention of hurting her or starting anything with your daughter."

"Oh yes, Edward assures me that you have only concern for her wellbeing." She reaches over Carlisle and pats her son's knee, seeming not to notice Jasper's eyes narrow a slight bit in response. "I hope that you will both find our home welcoming, and stay as long as you like." How could Edward know any better than anyone else? Before I can put together the words to ask, they are speaking again, this time Edward himself.

"Mother, you can't make cryptic statements like that without explaining yourself." And then to us, "I have a bit of a… gift myself, not unlike Alice's. I can hear people's thoughts."

He can hear our thoughts? All the time? My mind reels out of control in an instant. What if he sees… _him_? What if he finds out my secret? What about nightmares, can he see those too? I can't stay here… they'll find out, they won't want me, they'll tell Jasper how truly broken I am and he won't want me either. What if Jasper makes another mistake like the night I met him or today in the living room? Will he tell the angry blonde girl and cause more trouble? I don't know where to hide if my mind isn't safe.

I don't realize it has gone silent and all attention is on me until Edward speaks again. "Nightmares? You can sleep?" My eyes widen and I glare at him accusingly.

"You _heard_ that? I don't want you in my head!" I feel Jasper bristle next to me, but he doesn't move.

"I can't help it, unfortunately. Trust me; sometimes I don't want it either."

"Yes," I admit grudgingly, "I have to."

I can't figure out what to do with this information. I have thrived for my whole unnatural lifetime on being able to keep my secrets, stay away from people, and now I've brought us to one of the few places on the planet where even our minds aren't safe. He hears us. He probably hears me now. I glance up at him and he nods slightly, an apologetic expression on his face. The conversation has gone on without us, Carlisle asking Jasper about my oddities and our travels. I catch something about tests on me he wants to do and I don't like the sound of that, but I know that as long as Jasper is here he'll make sure nothing bad happens to me. I wonder if Edward saw what I was remembering when I broke down earlier.

Although I hadn't meant it as a question to him, Edward shakes his head slightly and indicates to Jasper. Of course, he was outside trying to keep Jasper under control. He wouldn't have had time to see it. It is a small assurance at best, but better than nothing. At least I wouldn't be kicked out yet. Jasper's disgusted expression from my dream last night flash across my mind's eye. Telling him is different than really knowing. If he really knew he wouldn't want me. But with Edward here, he'll know. What if he tells Jasper? He shakes his head again slightly, meeting my eyes in an unspoken promise. I don't know how he will react when he finally finds out, but if he won't tell Jasper that's really all I can ask for. I picture the disgusted expression from my dream transferred to Edward's face. It doesn't hurt as much to see, but I'm still not looking forward to it. The conversation has died down again, and Jasper tugs on my hand lightly to get my attention.

I turn to face him and Esme continues, unfazed. "We have a spare bedroom that might be comfortable for you, we don't usually have anyone who sleeps at the house, but hopefully it will be relaxing and give the two of you some space and privacy." I try not to show my discomfort at the thought of those words all in the same sentence; I don't want to hurt Jasper's feelings and also don't want to set off another riot like earlier. I want to keep Jasper with me, but sharing a room has a more intimate connotation than I am comfortable with. I can't have anything that close with Jasper; _his_ fingerprints are still burned into my skin. He brushes the back of my hand reassuringly and pulls back his hand, giving me the freedom to decide. He always lets me choose. It will be alright. I nod slightly to Esme, which is all she was looking for. She leads us up the staircase, to the end of the hall, and around the corner to a secluded guest suite. It looks immaculate, like a model house. I wonder if anyone has ever stayed here before us. I notice that my small suitcase has already been put on the set of cherry drawers. Someone must have moved it during my breakdown.

They excuse themselves, leaving Jasper and me alone in the huge room. "I'm going to go clean up." I take my few belongings and escape to the giant attached bathroom. I don't want to offend Jasper, so I try to be subtle as I lock the door behind me. I know that it wouldn't deter anyone in this house more than half a second, but it makes me feel better, I always lock doors. I turn on the bath water and sigh as I feel the steam begin to fill the air. I slip out of my dress, the dirt and grime from the trip covering the bright white of the tile floor. Hopefully I'll be able to get a new dress soon. I dust it off as best I can and hang it up on the back of the door. At least the steam will clean it off a little.

I test the temperature of the bathtub and slide in. I haven't had a warm bath in a while. I close my eyes, leaning back into the water. We've made it. I don't know what happens next, but for now I can just wait and see. No more people to find, for now at least, and nothing else on the radar to be wary of; maybe now I can finally just be. I wonder idly if I'll be able to get a job in the small town we came through. I don't know how long they stay in one place, but I'll need to figure something out to get a new dress soon. I feel like the warm water is soaking off layer and layer of dirt, and I breathe a contented sigh of relief. It feels amazing. I've never traveled so long all at once before, and I am a little sore from my vision-induced clumsiness earlier. I lean back until only my face is above the water, listening to the subtle patterns in the roar of the running water, unconcerned with how much time is passing.

My mind drifts lazily to the other people living in the house. Esme reminds me a little of my own mother, from long ago. She's beautiful and graceful, stunning. I hadn't even minded her touching my arm when I first woke up, her presence was so disarming. I hope that I get to spend more time around her. Rosalie is much more volatile, but I know that she was trying to defend me. I think that in time, we'll probably become friends, maybe even really good friends. I haven't had a friend like that since my human years as a child.

Then there are the men of the house. Although I want to trust them, I'm really doing well just being alright around Jasper, I can only do so much at a time. They scare me, all of them, although for different reasons. Emmett is the most obvious, he's huge. He could probably pin me to the wall with one hand if he wanted. More than simply that he is strong, he is stronger than Jasper. He could hurt Jasper or stop him from helping me. He is also the one I saw with red eyes in the beginning. I don't know if his eyes would burn red with my blood, not being entirely human and all, but I have no desire to find out.

Even though Carlisle has only been kind to us, I'm afraid of him as well. When he had been trying to help me I had felt his hands as Charles', pulling at my arms. He had also talked about tests… I don't know what that means, but I don't want to find out. Charles had been like a father to me, and if that was what "like a father" looked like, I most certainly do not want another one.

Surprisingly enough, the one who poses the most real threat to me is the one who makes me the least afraid. I should be afraid of Edward; he could devastate me without anyone knowing to stop him. If Emmett or Carlisle decided to hurt me, the others would see and could stop them if they wanted, but not Edward. He can break into my mind, the tightest locks and walls of protection are useless against him. Yet somehow I believe him that he won't say anything. I don't know why I trust him more than the others; I suppose it's somewhat out of necessity. I have to trust him or leave, because if I stay, he will find out inevitably. All of the things that I've never told a soul, not even Jasper, Edward will know. Although I'm still not at all okay with this idea, I have the irrational feeling that he's trustworthy, and that it'll be alright.

I have no idea how long I've been in the bath, and I wonder if Jasper is still in the room. The water has been draining slowly as more pours in but it's cooler now, slightly. I turn off the faucet and listen for Jasper, hearing nothing. I stand up and step one foot onto the fluffy rug. The room spins wildly, and I grab for anything stable, pulling a towel rack nearly off the wall in an attempt to regain my balance. I catch the side of the bathtub and hold on, the floor settling again where it belongs and the black stars fading from my sight. I'd forgotten that warm water, not moving and not eating much don't mix well. I pick up a towel from the floor, inspecting the shiny metal towel rack now hanging pathetically with one side still mounted, sort of, while the other dangles below. I'm not sure it can be fixed, but I'll try later.

I towel off quickly and my eyes fall on a lightweight black satin robe. It looks heavenly. I haven't heard anything from our room, and Jasper has probably gone somewhere else. I feel so clean, and I really can't bring myself to put back on my dirty dress. It would be so comfortable, so light on my sore muscles. I reach out and trail my fingertips along the fabric. It's soft and flowing. It's also long; it would probably just touch the ground if I wore it. There can't be any harm in trying it on, could there? I pull it off its decorative hanger and slip it over my shoulders, allowing the towel to fall to the ground. It feels wonderful, so soft, so relaxing. I notice that it's just starting to get dark outside, in between the events of this morning and this afternoon when we arrived, as well as my long bath, the day has slipped away.

If I go right to bed, I should be able to slip under the covers before anyone sees me, and then if Jasper comes back he shouldn't bother me. And I could wash off my dress, let it dry overnight, and have it ready to wear again in the morning. I decide to give into temptation. Before I can change my mind, I pull the dress off the back of the door and throw it into the bath water. I scrub it with the soap from my bag and rinse it out well, throwing it over the metal sink to dry. I gather my things again; popping another peach slice into my mouth to appease my churning stomach and putting everything back away. I tuck my bag beside the bathtub and unlock the door, cracking it to see out. I quickly scan the room, and like I suspected, I see no one.

I take a careful step into the room and then another, my eyes on the large bed on the other side of the room. I stop for a moment, distracted by the vanity. My reflection shocks me. The black satin is only slightly darker than my hair, contrasting with my light skin. My hair is wild, as always, but it seems to have some uniformity to it tonight. I can see the slight ripple of fabric where my ribs show through the thin satin over my sides, but even though I am smaller than I thought, I still look… different than I expected. I see something I've never seen in myself, never allowed myself to see. I look… pretty, or something like it. Maybe even… desirable. I fight the urge to rip the offending garment off, but I feel something else as well… a sort of wonder. I trail my fingers along the side of my neck, examining the light, silver scar that has formed there. Somehow, even that mark is attractive to me. It reminds me of him, of the visions I've seen of him for so many years. Although the night we met shouldn't be a good memory, I can't bring myself to regret it. I finally found him. I let my hand fall gently, feeling the soft satin on my fingertips on their way back to my sides. It is a beautiful garment, and I think I might even look… beautiful in it. The tingling nervous feeling is still there, but the intensity has died down, replaced with the marvel of my realization. I turn away from the mirror, pulling back the giant blanket on the bed and slipping under the covers.

As soon as I lay down, I feel the insistent tug of sleep pulling me away from consciousness. It feels wonderful to be on a soft bed in clean clothes. All of the concerns of the day are forgotten, and I drift off quickly to a deep sleep.

What do you think? Please let me know, and thank you to all the new favorites!


	12. Hunting

I'm SO SORRY for the crazy long delay! My beta... kinda dropped off the planet... I haven't heard from her in over a month... hopefully she's alright...

But anyway, I decided I'd just give it an extra once over and post it... so sorry for any mistakes! :) I then posted it on twilighted and forgot to post it here...so without any more ado... Que Jasper!

Chapter 12

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

I know that I should give her privacy, but after being forcibly removed from her once today, I am more than reluctant to leave her. There is a window seat against the far wall, and I force myself to sit down to curb the pacing. I hadn't realized I had been pacing, but I'm sure the rest of the house had. I had been nervous when Alice approached them again after all of the drama earlier, but even more nervous when she seemed to zone out with the news of Edward's gift. I had been disturbed at his revelation as well, but I hadn't realized how severely that news would affect Alice. She has survived by keeping her secrets. She had frozen beside me, and if I had to guess, I'd say that she missed the rest of the conversation. She had kept shooting Edward pointed looks, and he seemed somewhat involved as well. I don't know what was going on, but I want to be here if she is up for explaining when she finishes cleaning up.

When she goes to bed I need to get out and hunt again. On the off chance that something goes wrong, I need to keep up my strength. There are, however, a few issues with that. First, that would mean leaving her here alone. I think that she'll be fine, especially sleeping, but I would never forgive myself if I was wrong. Maybe I can stay close. Unfortunately, that brings me to the next problem. Their eyes, all of them. They're bright honey colored and I can't smell human blood on any of them, only animal. They must be opposed to the idea of feeding off of humans, which means that they are probably opposed to the idea of _me_ feeding off of humans. Something I will have to figure out tonight.

I can hear light footsteps downstairs. Most of the group left earlier, whether to give us space or to speak unheard I'm unsure. Only Esme, the one Alice seems to like, remains at the house with the giant one, presumably to make sure nothing happens. Whatever their logic I am thankful, when she comes back she won't have to worry about where they are. I am also thankful for the chance to process the day without Edward listening in and without the turbulent emotions from the house. Since our initial spat, Rosalie had been seething in her room, waves of anger and sorrow hitting me. And that was only a small sampling of the emotions that had been swirling around from the others since we came back in. So, having only Esme, Emmett and Alice in the house was comforting to _me_ as well. Esme's emotions are stable and positive. She feels hopeful, expectant. Although the big one who startled her earlier is still here, his emotions are fairly calm, providing a surprisingly serene atmosphere. For now, all I can feel from Alice is contentment. It is cathartic after years of pain, fear and turmoil.

I breathe in a sigh of relief; maybe Alice was right to bring us here after all. The mix of Alice's magnificent scent with the clean floral of the soap, Esme's welcoming emotions and Alice's contentment has me more relaxed than I think I have ever been. I close my eyes for a minute, and I'm sure if I was still able to sleep I would have drifted off right here. For just a moment there is peace. I lose track of time, sitting in the windowsill motionless. I have no motivation to move, no pretenses to keep up, nothing I need to be doing. I can just sit here and be, breathing in the glorious scent of Alice and letting the hope and peace of the rest of the house wash over me.

I realize that my eyes have drifted closed for who knows how long, soaking in the bliss of the moment, when I am startled back to reality by the sound of something breaking through the wall between the bathroom and the bedroom. I hear Alice curse quietly under her breath and have to stifle a chuckle at her unexpected reaction. The two downstairs pause to listen, but go back to their activities when they hear Alice's footsteps resume. I make a note to check on what she broke when she goes to sleep tonight. I'm not the handiest person out there, but I know how to jam things back into walls, so if that is the necessary fix, I'll be just fine.

I have just about drifted back to my thoughts, lulled by her gentle footfalls when I hear the door click open softly. I don't move right away, but when I hear her hesitate I open my eyes to investigate. Even if I had been planning on moving, the sight before me has me frozen. She has emerged from the bathroom, but not in her worn and stained dress. She's wearing a silky black robe, the hem nearly touching the ground. It is opaque, but thin. It hides very little of her tiny form. She is absolutely beautiful, breathtaking. The satin fabric draped across her shoulders falls low on her back, revealing her sharp shoulder blades and the light skin on the top of her back. It then cascades down her form, flowing sensually over her tiny body.

She has stopped, examining her reflection. I can't see her face from my vantage point, so it's difficult to tell what she's thinking. She feels…wonder, surprise as she looks at her reflection. I wonder if she has ever allowed herself to wear something so stunning before. I'm guessing probably not. Although I assure myself I would never act on it, I can't keep my eyes from examining her form, memorizing every detail of her. I know that she will be mortified if she finds me here, but I'm not moving now, and even if I was able to escape without her noticing, I can't pull myself away. She is much more attractive than I could have imagined, any image my mind could have conjured of her is nothing compared to the creature standing in this room.

She tilts her head just slightly, exposing a sliver more of her neck, shoulder and collarbone, and inadvertently widening the neckline of the robe just a touch. She trails her fingers lightly down her neck and I nearly have to close my eyes to get myself under control. Then I realize what she's looking at; the scar I gave her a few days ago. Her fingertips lightly caress the falcate shape on her neck. The scar shimmers under her touch, as if the laceration was made by diamond. I am reminded of my less than civil behavior upon our meeting and it serves to ground my thoughts away from the dangerous fantasies of my mind.

Only a few days ago I'd been ready to end this exquisite creature's life. What a waste. And yet my intentions toward her tonight haven't been entirely noble either. I snap back to the present as she slowly lets her hand fall from her neck, her fingertips trailing along the satin of her neckline all the way down to the sash at her waist. My hands tingle slightly, envying hers in that moment. I pull in a silent hiss, she is exquisite. A whole new set of dangerous instincts demand her now. By some miracle, she doesn't hear me. Someone up above is looking out for my sanity, because at that moment she turns slowly away and crawls into bed, falling asleep almost immediately. Her tiny form is nearly lost in the giant bed, and her expression is peaceful. Although I can still see the silky fabric peeking over the top of the blanket and the slightest hint of the ivory skin of her shoulder, the peace and innocence of the image allows me to tear my mind away from more dangerous paths.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. I've made it. I'm not used to denying myself what I want, what my instincts demand, but I will not seduce her in such a fragile stage. I allow myself a consolatory glance, sitting gently beside the bed and memorizing the sound of her breathing to calm my nerves.

My resolve spent for the night, I know I need to hunt before she gets up. Which, of course, brings me to the next dilemma; how to hunt without making this group angry or leaving Alice alone here. This thought seems to cue the rest of the peanut gallery, because just then I hear their footsteps approaching in the distance.

I make my way out of the room silently, even though she's been asleep for a little while and probably wouldn't have been disturbed. I enter the living room as they are filing through the door. Everyone's emotions have calmed down, at least a little bit. The wild blonde is still seething under the surface and the giant man goes to her, the calm from earlier tinged slightly with concern. Before I can begin to decide to broach the subject, the man who let us in, Carlisle, beckons me into the dining room, the rest of the family already gathering at the table. The tone of the meeting is strange, I feel like I am being initiated into some secret group… or on trial.

"Is Alice comfortable upstairs? Does she need anything?" Esme breaks the serious tenor for a moment, as if she's been waiting to ask me for a while.

"She's fine, she's sleeping right now."

"Oh poor dear, she must be exhausted."

Before this conversation can continue, Carlisle cuts in, gently, reminding her that we have things to talk about. She smiles, slightly flustered, and adds some sort of gracious assent.

"Jasper, there are a few things we'd like to discuss with you alone. Given your unique situation and Alice's unique…existence, I thought it might be more prudent to have this discussion before we make another mistake that ends in violence." The expression on Rosalie's face shows very clearly that she does not think it was a mistake at all, but he continues. "First of all, just to clear things up for us, would you mind telling us what she is to you?"

I'm not entirely sure what the answer is to that question. In reality she is just some woman who walked into my life a mere three days ago. I notice Edward hide a somewhat shocked expression, but it doesn't make much more sense to me, so I don't blame him. The truth is that I know she is much more, but I don't know what else to describe our relationship to each other. "Well, I guess you could say that as of late she's become my charge, she seems to have chosen me to watch out for her."

"How long ago was that?"

Funny you should ask… "Actually it was only a few days ago, but seeing me in her visions for so long, she acts like she's known me forever." I'm not really sure why I'm answering these questions, but I know that Edward will hear the answer either way and Alice seems attached to staying here for a while. I guess they'll find out eventually either way, so I see no harm in them knowing.

"She obviously has some sort of… past, given her reaction earlier. Do you have any idea what that was about?"

"Yes, but it's hers to tell," I give Edward a pointed look, "it was a long time ago, but it still really bothers her."

"Would you mind telling us anything we should know about how to behave around her?"

"She doesn't like people walking behind her, or out of her line of sight. She doesn't like surprises, or not knowing where people are. She doesn't like people touching her, at all. Don't touch her unless she initiates it or you have explicit permission. She has these… flashbacks… sometimes. Don't go near her. Leave her alone and she'll come back faster. For some reason she seems to have chosen me to keep her safe, she also seems to see a threat to me as a threat to her, which is what happened earlier. It would be best if you have a problem with me to take it up with me while she's asleep." I can't think of anything else I've learned that would be helpful to pass on, so I leave it at that.

"Thank you, that is very helpful to know. We know that she has these… visions, but I'm under the impression you have a gift as well. Would you mind elaborating?"

Of course Edward would have heard the strange sense I have. "I can feel emotions. I sense the emotions around me and feel them as my own. I can also manipulate emotions to a certain extent. I can control biological responses that are interpreted as emotions in a way that people rationalize the response as their own."

Carlisle let out a low whistle. Apparently Edward hadn't figured out the last part previously, because he looks a bit surprised as well. Given my former fiasco with Alice, I still think it's better to have warned them. I can feel the unease in the room, so I try to lift the tension. "Any of you should be able to tell when it's happening, especially having been made aware of the possibility. It works well on humans and the unsuspecting, but it can't do much against another vampire looking for it."

Everyone but Rosalie seems to accept this answer and Carlisle steers the conversation again. "If I understand correctly, she needs human food for sustenance?"

"From what she's told me, she can live off of human food or blood, although I've never seen her take blood." In fact, I've barely seen her eat human food either. I hope that being here will change that.

"Alright, well, we will make sure to go collect some groceries soon; it's good for our image anyway. As for the question of blood, we need to discuss your feeding habits as well. I'm sure you've noticed our strange eye color. Do you know what it means?"

"Well, I kind of thought it was some sort of myth, but I believe it now."

"So you do, excellent. Obviously you don't share our lifestyle choices, would you be willing to reconsider?"

"I'd rather not." I answer as honestly as possible. I'm not even sure I could survive on animal blood; I might rather starve to death. But if Alice needed to be here, and I had to do it to be here with Alice, I might be willing to try to make it work for a short time.

"Well, we'd love to have you here, but our family lives as such largely because of our respect for human life. We all understand mistakes, but if you are to stay with us we need for you to at least make an effort to change your diet. We understand how difficult this can be, and how unnatural it can feel, and we won't ask you to leave if you make an honest effort and it doesn't work, but we do ask that you try."

I know that Alice would be much more comfortable with this change as well, so I decide that I'm going to have to at least make an effort. "I'll try."

"That's all we ask, thank you. Now you're probably looking to hunt pretty soon, would you mind going out with one of my sons to help you adjust?"

I'm not wild about the idea, but at least hunting animals I should be able to stay close enough to feel Alice and make sure she's safe, and taking one with me meant one less at the house while I wasn't there. "That's fine."

"And Jasper, I'd like to speak with you in private when you return, if you don't mind?" I have no idea how he plans on making that happen in a house full of vampires, but I give him a halfhearted agreement, figuring I can duck out later if it seems to involve leaving Alice.

Before I know it, I'm running through the forest with the giant one, Emmett. Obviously they'd chosen him as the more likely of the two to be able to stop me, and although I wasn't really sure I wanted to be stopped, I was fine with him being away from the house. And, if he tried to stop me, I was up for getting a little aggression out on him as well. He kept me from Alice earlier. Seemingly out of nowhere, he seems to be in the mood to chat. I'm monitoring Alice's emotions closely, and when we're almost past the outer distance where I can focus and still feel her I turn us slightly, keeping in range.

"So you've really only known her a few days? She looks at you like you hung the moon."

I'm not at all sure how to respond to that. She looks at me like I need to protect her, sure, but much more is implied in that statement. He only met her a few hours ago and gets that impression? What does he know? Another side of me wants to believe him. I want her to look at me like that. I want to be that to her and that thought is terrifying.

"She has a lot of grand ideas from those visions of hers." I know that it might be more than that, but I'm not sure I'm in the mood to discuss it with a near stranger. Luckily, he seems to sense my lack of participation in the discussion and changes the subject.

"She seems a little jumpy."

"Yeah."

"She reminds me of my Rose. She's not as bad as she seems, she's just hurting too. She doesn't trust people easily but she tends to be a bit more… aggressive about it than Alice."

"Hmm." I'm not trying to be rude, but I'm also not really interested in an extended conversation out in the forest while Alice is at the house alone. Although willing to change the subject, he seems unwilling to drop conversing all together.

"But I can't imagine having to worry about hurting her. I mean, yeah, I was a newborn not too long ago and I am big enough that I probably _could_ hurt Rosalie if I try, but having someone delicate enough to hurt on accident…with some sort of past to deal with as well… must be hard."

I choose not to comment. I have nothing to add. It is hard, and I don't care to discuss it.

"Has she been… whatever it is that she is…for a long time?"

"Yes, I think so."

"That must be weird, you know? To be strong and forever and all of that but still need to eat and sleep and keep warm. I wonder if any of us would have been happier that way than what we are."

I give him a noncommittal grunt in response, trying to focus on the smells around me. Nothing smells at all appetizing.

"You know, it's easier to get used to if you start with big animals or predators, they're easier to stomach. There are some elk a little north and they attract the mountain lions. Want to head over there?"

"No thanks." I need to stay close to Alice, and I will choke down whatever repulsive thing I need to in order to get back to her. I hear a rabbit in the woods and catch it and drain it in one motion, not giving myself time to taste it. Although that helped me get it down, it did nothing to ease the repulsive taste. It was awful. I'm sure if I still had a working gag reflex it would have helped me out of this mess. I summon all of my resolve. This is for Alice, I can do this. I hear another small animal and dart toward it, catching a large gopher waddling in the undergrowth. I try not to smell it while forcing it down my throat. It is much worse the second time because I now know what to expect- terrible. I summon the last reserves of my determination, Alice had better appreciate this. I hear a slightly larger animal farther into the forest. I chance a look at Emmett; he is still standing where I left him, now about 60 yards back, trying to keep a straight face. He was laughing at me.

No matter, the sooner I get this done the sooner I get back to Alice… wearing that silky robe… and nothing else… looking so tempting… I realize these are dangerous thoughts, but they do the job of distracting me. The small deer changes direction and I leap after it. I am one step away when I smell it… sweet… so much better than the disgusting smell in front of me. I know Emmett can't smell it from that distance. I don't even try to stop myself. I launch off full speed west. I've seen him run. That much of a head start is all I will need. It takes him a split second to realize what happened, and that adds another second to my head start, more than enough to kill them before he gets to me. He wouldn't dare take them away then. I can feel their emotions getting closer. Only a few seconds more and I would have them. They've been drinking; I can smell it on them. They look like they might live out here. I can see them now, two bedraggled old men around a burning barrel. I'll have to maneuver to keep distance from that. I can hear Emmett's thunderous footsteps, but he's too far back to stop me, I know it. I break into the clearing much too quickly to be seen and catch both of them by the neck, dragging them along with me without losing speed. I get back into the woods and bite each of them, lighting fast.

I start on the closest one, Emmett can't take them now, the other one will change if he tries and this one will die anyway. In another second he comes into sight and stops running, his pace slows, his emotions torn. He feels… guilty, sympathetic, and deeply… sad, more than any of the others. Strongly enough, in fact, that I don't even notice the strong emotions I'm used to feeling from my prey, so I don't even give the poor vagabond I'm draining some peace as he goes. I finish him quickly and go to the other. Emmett takes the first away, careful not to set me off, and starts tearing claw like marks into him. I watch in curiosity out of the corner of my eye as the man's sweet, human, non-repulsive blood sates my burning throat. I finish with him quickly, and watch as Emmett repeats the procedure with this one as well. It seems like a task he is somewhat accustomed to, although his emotions are as strong as ever. When he finishes he heads back east, not bothering to see if I followed.

I'm not worried about what they will think, I choked down some gross animal in the beginning there, effort made, but I am worried about what Alice will think if they tell her. She knows, I think, in the abstract, that I feed on humans, but I don't think hearing the details would do either of us any good, and I hope they keep it among themselves after Edward picks it from Emmett and spreads it around. I realize now just how far I sprinted. I also realize that in my irrational hunt I'd lost touch with Alice. I'd gone too far. Now _that_ I was worried about. I pick up my pace, the new blood coursing through my system. How long had I been out of contact? Since that first stupid rabbit? Why hadn't I been paying attention to her?

I promise to not keep you waiting so long this time! I'm having a lot of trouble with the direction of this story right now... I'm very open to suggestions of what you might want to see in future chapters and the like...I'm in the weird middle of the story rut :)


	13. Sunrise

Chapter 13

*_*_*_*_Edward*_*_*_*_*

The more time I spend around these two, the stranger my impression becomes of them. Earlier he told me unwittingly through his thoughts that he met Alice three days ago. Now that's not long by human standards, but when measured against all of eternity, it's less than a moment, a blink of an eye. Yet I can feel the bond between them in their thoughts, they make nearly every decision and move based on the other. Jasper had only agreed to go hunting for Alice, which is also the only reason he puts up with any of us. He hasn't given me any clues about the litany of venom scars that cover nearly every exposed part of his body, but I get the impression from them that he isn't exactly accustomed to abiding peacefully with others. Which brings me to the next obvious paradox, he seems very violent in his temperament, but has been traveling with tiny Alice, who curls up and cowers in fear when he gets in a fight. She is obviously… fragile… and it seems absolutely impossible that he would be willing to deal with that, and she still willing to trust him; which she seems to nearly implicitly… nearly. For all of his protectiveness, he still doesn't know something important and painful to her.

That was all she thought of earlier. She has some secret that she is too ashamed even to tell Jasper. She thinks that it's so terrible that we'll kick her out, that even Jasper won't want her. She seems to live in fear that her nightmares will get out and people will know. Then, before she could even finish worrying about that, my wonderful, well meaning mother offers them a room. I guess if you saw only what they were projecting, that would make sense. They seem very tied together. If she would have heard the calculation with which she avoided Emmett and I in trying to get to Jasper… how she clung to him walking by Carlisle and I… how, for just a moment, her mind prepared an escape plan when he put his arm around her. She's trying to make him different from everyone else in her mind, but he's not quite there yet. So then I was privy to the unease from the idea of sharing a room with him, even though he has no need to be in it.

Then there is her stubbornness to stay with us. Jasper is miserable trying to get used to the idea of living off of animals and she is terrified of Emmett, Carlisle and I as well as barely able to stand the idea of me hearing her thoughts, she nearly had a breakdown just thinking about it. Yet here she is, hours later, asleep in the guest bedroom with all of us in the house. She has this unshakable confidence in decisions based on these visions of hers, so she doesn't seem to even worry about it. She knows that she belongs here so she's decided that she does, even if being around us is terrifying to her. I find I have an odd compulsion to protect Alice, I think it has something to do with the combination of her tiny stature and her attempts to put on a brave face when her thoughts are so insecure.

Jasper had been thinking about her not eating much since he'd met her, and from his memory of the last few days it seems that he's right. If our kind doesn't eat we become uncontrollable, and then if we still can't feed, we get weaker, but our size doesn't change. I wonder if that is different with her. Maybe some of her stature isn't just genetics. If she really can control her physique with eating, I wonder why she chooses to be so tiny and unintimidating when she already feels unsafe. I think back to my immediate sympathy at the sight of her earlier, maybe it is safer to invite people to protect you than it is to try to protect yourself.

Although that hasn't worked well for her yet, especially with Jasper; and maybe if she wasn't so tiny he wouldn't have nearly fractured her wrist earlier. I saw it in Emmett's thoughts when I returned, heard the crunch of cartilage trying to cushion the pressure and spare her a broken wrist. That wasn't the only damage he's caused her. I know Carlisle was trying to hide it from me, but his last request for Jasper to speak with him betrayed his concern. She has a crescent scar of her own, and it's recent. Depending on how slowly she heals, it could be as old as a week or so, making it predate when she met Jasper, but given her survival on next to nothing, her speed and her strength it seems unlikely she heals as slowly as a human. Which means that if it's still healing it couldn't be more than a couple days old, putting it within the range of when she was with Jasper, and Carlisle didn't smell anyone else near her.

So for all of the sunshine and rainbows Alice thinks about Jasper, there may be more to that story too. I wonder now if we should have let Rose get a better shot at him after all. She's clearly broken and feeding off of her isn't exactly therapeutic; but I know better than any of my family just how much their decisions revolve around each other. He really does care about her with an intensity that I'm not even sure he recognizes, and she makes nearly all of her decisions based on him as well. Whatever he did to her seems to be forgiven. They're an interesting pair. As long as there is no more trouble, I really hope they do stay.

I realize that I've been staring at a chess board for a while now and move a couple pieces. No one will play against me anymore, so I sometimes play against myself. It really isn't much different anyway, against someone else or myself I am just as aware of the next move. It's only been almost an hour since Alice's breath evened out into sleeping, according to Esme's memory, but I can hear her stir. I don't know if she naturally doesn't sleep much or is just uncomfortable with all of us around, but she seems fairly rested.

I leave my game as it is and let Esme know that I'm headed out to the yard to give Alice space. Soon after I hear her light footsteps on the stairs, and sure enough she seems relieved that Esme is apparently alone in the kitchen. Although I think that she could sense me if she tried, it seems that her senses require more focus to use than ours.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

Chirping, I can hear birds chirping, but they're far away. I'm not outside; in fact I'm somewhere incredibly comfortable. I'm not screaming, thrashing, crying or shaking, so I must not have had a nightmare last night, which is odd for me. I feel… clean, warm, and safe. Where am I? I finally give up my silly game and open my eyes. I'm greeted by the early morning sunlight on bright mahogany trim and rich colors; the guest bedroom at the Cullen's. I am so comfortable I could stay here for hours, but it's probably a good idea to get up and change before Jasper comes in. Reluctantly, I drag myself out of the wonderful bed and into the bathroom to get ready for the day. My dress isn't quite dry, but it'll have to do. The fabric feels particularly unpleasant after the wonderful silk of the robe, but it can't be helped. Although dousing it last night seems to have taken a layer or two of the dirt off, the garment is still much too far gone to be salvaged. The mud and wear from the trip still show through clearly.

I quickly wash my face and try to tame my hair, although it doesn't make much of a difference, and turn quickly away from the mirror. Arriving back in the giant guest suite, I'm not sure what my next move should be. I don't hear Jasper in the house and I have to fight back an irrational fear that he finally saw his way out and left me. I can hear others in the house, and it is finally the sound of Esme's soft humming that decides for me. I put on my best brave face and follow the sound to her, praying that I don't run into any of the men of the house on the way.

Either luck was on my side, or the small movements and low speaking downstairs were clearing out the living room for me, because when I find her she is alone. I know that she can hear me enter the room, but she politely waits for me to acknowledge her before she breaks from her work at the small desk in front of her.

"Good morning," I offer timidly.

"Good morning, my dear. I trust you slept well?" The endearment seems to flow off of her lips naturally, and my heart aches for my own mother, long dead and buried by now. I shake off the momentary shadow.

"Yes, thank you. Better than I have for a long time."

"Would you like some breakfast? I must admit, it has been a while since I've cooked, but once upon a time I was quite good!" I'm torn by her offer. I know that I should probably eat something, it would be good to be seen so that they wouldn't worry, and I might need the strength for whatever is going to come today, but I am not quite comfortable here and I don't think I can let my guard down yet. However, whatever unease I feel now is nothing compared to how uncomfortable I will be if Jasper decides to push the issue in front of everyone, or if I'm forced to eat later around the others. I decide to submit to the lesser evil and nod slightly to Esme, her eyes kind and willing.

She shepherds me into the kitchen and begins pulling things out of the cupboards. I'm a bit surprised at the volume of human food they have around the house, but she explains that they go shopping and keep groceries to keep up appearances. Apparently they buy non-perishables when possible and donate them to an out of state charity. It's all rather interesting, I'd never thought about all of the planning that would have to go into pretending to be like everyone else. Admittedly, I had the basics down from my years as a functional nomad, but I'd never had so much to hide, and therefore such an elaborate rouse to keep up. As she is cooking, Esme tells me more about her family. I watch the adoring expression on her face as she talks about each of her "children" and Carlisle and I wonder if someday she could talk about Jasper and I that way, as if we belong and are part of the family. After all, once upon a time they didn't know each other either.

She finishes and presents me with enough breakfast to feed half of the state. Although I am much more at ease around her than any other member of this household, I'm suddenly not sure this was such a good idea. I don't want to offend her, but my playing along with eating to get Jasper off my back doesn't extend this far. I can't eat half of this or I'll be sick, my stomach having shrunk to accommodate my harsh eating patterns. I'm not actually sure that it's physical, but I know for sure that it's psychological. I can't eat all of that. I have to stay the way I am, I'm only safe if I'm in control, and I'm only in control if I don't eat. I can't let myself get lazy and indulge because before I know it the flashbacks will be back, redoubled. I'll see him taunt me; show me off as I gain the curves I starve off my figure.

"Alice? Is everything alright?"

I look up to find Esme's concerned expression. I realize now that I have been glaring at my food with a horrified expression for nearly a minute. Way to make a good impression and act normal.

"I'm sorry, yes, of course. This looks wonderful; I guess I was just caught up in my thoughts for a moment." I begin studiously picking at my food, tearing off edges and nibbling them slowly, mainly shredding and moving around. This seems to pacify her for the moment, and she sits down across the table from me, her paperwork from the other room in her hands.

"Alice, I was thinking if you're going to stay here for a little while I would really enjoy helping you pick out some new clothes. I noticed that you didn't bring much with you, and I would love dressing up my girls, Rosalie and I have needed another shopping companion." She doesn't look up from the forms on the table, but I can tell that she's waiting for an answer.

"Oh, well, I try to keep a job wherever I live, but I'm afraid that I've been moving around a bit longer than usual and don't have much saved up at the moment."

This time, she does look up at me. "Oh, Alice, I wouldn't worry about that! It wouldn't bother us one bit to help you out, we've had the good fortune of settling in each place for a while for the last few decades, and we have very few needs to be met by material wealth. It would really make me happy to be able to share it with you, I hope that you will decide to stay, and it's the least that I can do to try and convince you. I'm sure that Rosalie would be up for a little trip into town as well, if you wouldn't mind her company. We could have a bit of a girl's outing, what do you think?"

I'm still uncomfortable with the idea of taking anything from this family; I've always done things on my own. I'm not sure if it comes more strongly from having to fend for myself or from the expectation of strings attached to outside help, but I've always been uncomfortable with the idea. However, I can't keep wearing this dress until I save up for a new one, it might disintegrate off of my body first, so I manage a small nod.

I'm also not entirely sure what to make of Rosalie, but I trust Esme, and if she is coming I'm sure I'll be ok. The term "girl's outing" is now registering as well. I know that I've managed a few lifetimes without him, but now that I found Jasper I don't know how much public interaction I can handle without him. I decide that it can't possibly take that much time, so I'll be alright. I wait for Esme to get up and turn to someone in the living room before I quickly dump the rest of my food into the trash and clean the dish. If she notices my action she doesn't comment, and I look up to find Carlisle speaking softly with her. Although his attention is clearly not on me, it still surprises me a bit to find him there. I'm used to being around men socially, but not yet used to them around the house. Seemingly unconsciously, he angles himself less directly in the doorway, allowing an exit should I want one. I realize that I'm no longer by the counter, so I must have taken a step away from him, which may explain his behavior. They're never going to believe that I'm normal.

With a sigh I slip through the opposite door, not caring where it led. I find myself quite suddenly outside, the bright morning sunlight shimmering delicately across my skin. I flop unceremoniously down on the grass to inspect this strange reflection. Living so close to civilization my whole life, and seeing it as a constant reminder of the genetics that cursed me to loneliness, I had never really stopped to examine the light shimmer to my skin. It is subdued, delicate enough that humans don't notice it, and yet perfectly visible to me. I see the light dance across the reflective surface, and when I really focus I can see the prisms of light dividing on each tiny plane. My mind wanders back to my early morning contemplations and I wonder if I could really be beautiful to someone so indestructible. It scares me that I might even want to be. Jasper has my mind and heart all twisted into knots. I know, somewhere inside, that it's dangerous to let people close to me, that the closer they are the more opportunity they have to hurt me. But my heart says that he doesn't want to hurt me, that for the first time in a long time I can trust someone. I shake my head as if to clear it, and I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye. When I catch sight of the slightly familiar bronze hair I realize that I am neither physically nor mentally alone. Crap.


	14. Slideshow

Chapter 14

*_*_*_*_Edward*_*_*_*_*

My eyes narrow when I hear the stunt she's pulling inside. It makes me even angrier that my poor, innocent mother buys it. I'm not sure why it bothers me that she tricks Esme into thinking that she ate, or at least that she didn't need to eat more, but it does. Esme is only trying to care for her and watch out for her, and she is throwing it in her face with a stunt like that. I am about to march right in there and confront her about it, which, admittedly, may not be the wisest course of action, when I hear Carlisle walking through the living room. I know that she doesn't realize he's coming yet, so I can't judge what her reaction will be, but I also can't stop him fast enough without tearing through the kitchen, which is sure to startle her more, or speaking loud enough that she would also hear. So I wait it out and hope for the best.

Despite my recent annoyance at her, I feel an odd obligation to make sure she's alright. I tell myself that it's because I'm the mind reader that has to suffer through her flashbacks if we're not careful, but I think the real reason I feel responsible is that I'm the only one who really knows her logic and how constantly it affects her. It's not as if she's trusted me with this privileged information, but I have it just the same. It feels wrong to let things happen when I alone can stop them.

Carlisle arrives and is assimilated into the room's atmosphere with much less difficulty than expected. She's uncomfortable, but she quickly recovers and uses it as a distraction to get rid of her food unnoticed. Although that reminds me of my previous frustration, I don't dwell on it long because she suddenly sees her escape out the side door and is headed directly for me. I duck quickly out of sight so as not to startle her, but as soon as I do I regret it. Now what? Is she going to be somehow less unnerved when she catches me hiding here? Probably not.

She lies down abruptly and her thoughts turn to Jasper as she examines her skin. I try to distract myself from her thoughts as they take a personal turn. She's lying down, so I may be able to sneak away. I don't want to move too fast, as it might gain her attention as out of the ordinary. I make it a few steps away and she doesn't seem to notice anything different. I feel a little more confident about my escape until she suddenly shakes her head, her eyes landing directly on me. I am so glad in this moment that I am the mind reader rather than her, because she just caught me accidentally spying on her.

She seems to be taking it surprisingly calmly, given the circumstances. "Edward?"

It's more of an acknowledgment and request for explanation than a question; she obviously knows that it's me.

"Yeah, hey Alice." The intelligent reply I thought I had in my mind seems to have disappeared, leaving that dull greeting in its place. I don't have to be a mind reader to guess the question formulating in her mind as she decides how to ask it, so I save her the trouble. "I was out here to give you some space; I didn't expect to see you so suddenly." I note with relief that she seems to believe me, but I still wonder when Jasper will be back. It's odd, hours after meeting someone I usually feel like I know them pretty well from their thoughts, but I'm still a bit lost with Alice. It also seems ironic that I'm wishing for Jasper, who might be one of the least tactful beings I have ever met, to help me relate to her. I decide to go out on a limb, knowing that I'll hear the true answer if she tries to lie to me. "Do you mind if I join you?"

She considers it for a minute. For some odd reason she seems to want to trust me, although I have no idea why. Out of my father, my brother and I it seems unlikely that I would be her choice as least intimidating, but I think that keeping her secret for half a day is somehow inciting the smallest shred of trust. She really doesn't want my company, or anyone's really, but she is testing out the idea anyway. She wants to look normal, to convince us that she's okay so we don't leave her, but she also doesn't want to be alone. Finally, she decides that it would be alright if I stayed a little while until Jasper gets back, and nods.

I slowly untangle myself from the trees behind me and walk over slowly, watching her mind for any indication of regret or unusual fear. I decide against sitting beside her, as I've seen that she won't let me out of her sight. It's a bit unconventional, but as I get closer her anxiety rises, so I settle about eight feet away, sitting on the ground facing her, mirroring her position. I doubt any deep conversation would be appreciated, so I try to think of the silly mundane things humans talk about.

"How did you sleep?"

She smiles ever so slightly and closes her eyes. I see the light shining in the guest bedroom, the soft colors of the room seeming to glow. I'm not sure if she means for that to be part of her answer, but when she opens her eyes I'm sure that was her substitution for talking to me. It seems to make her more comfortable not speaking out loud to me when I can hear her thoughts anyway, so I try again.

"So is this place what you expected when you came all this way?"

This begins a sort of mental slide show. I decide that this is actually sort of enjoyable; it's much more organized than listening to the internal monologues behind spoken word. It's also fascinating to see her visions, or at least what I assume to be her visions. They're as clear as her memories, but she's comparing them with the last few hours to show me the difference. I see this house in spring, our house in Northern California in the middle of winter, a cabin we lived in for almost a year in the heat of summer, and then our house yesterday in late fall. She shows me Emmett's arrival, torn and bloodied in Rosalie's arms. Her face is frantic and his heart is barely beating. Then she shows me Rosalie's face yesterday; the sharp, unexpected pain of Jasper's grip followed immediately by Rose's insensitive outburst. I see Emmett's broken body laid out in Carlisle's study followed immediately by his hulking form walking into the living room. She manages to push aside the associated terror and flashbacks that came with his arrival, but not before I get a pretty good idea of what she was feeling.

She replays a scene of Carlisle and Esme slow dancing at a hospital formal a few towns ago, followed by the image of Carlisle answering the door yesterday and waking up to Esme while we were outside keeping tabs on Jasper. The images aren't much different, but she isn't finished. Next I see Carlisle lunging toward Rosalie to keep her in line, teeth bared and both growling menacingly. The next picture is hazy at best, crowded out by sheer terror and memories she is trying her hardest not to remember. I can tell by what I saw of Carlisle's memories that he is trying to help, but the words he speaks are integrated into the nightmare she is repressing and therefore lost. He reaches for her and she shies away, he reaches again and she backs into something hard, having run out of room to escape. The last semi-coherent memory is of him pinning her and calling for Rosalie. I guess her trust of me over the other men in the house makes a little more sense, but it doesn't escape me that she doesn't share her visions or her impression of me.

This continues for a few minutes longer, flitting through random events and insignificant gatherings over the years, some of them before Emmett joined the family, some of them even right before Rosalie. If she saw the circumstances around Rosalie's change she doesn't share them, although it seems unlikely as Rosalie was far from close to our family before that fateful night. Finally she seems to finish with what she wanted to show me of her visions and slideshow ends, clearly waiting for me to speak again.

"So, I guess a little different than you expected. We don't change much over the years, but you seemed to hit the highlights." I don't get an answer, mental, verbal or physical, so I decide to go on. "I know this seems unlikely to you, given whatever happened, but we won't hurt you. You don't have to believe me, but I hope you stick around long enough to see it for yourself."

Her mind stays silent for another moment, then flashes back to Emmett entering the room, shifting quickly to Emmett roughly restraining Jasper. The tenor of her thoughts are clear, she feels unsafe around him. I remember to Jasper's earlier explanation that she feels her safety is connected to his, and am oddly impressed with his truth of this observation.

"I know you haven't seen much of him that leads you to believe it, but Emmett really wouldn't hurt anyone if he had the choice, he's kind of a teddy bear when you get to know him."

Her disagreement is immediately voiced in the form of image after image of Emmett. Tacked on to the previous two are Emmett destroying the house as a newborn, the first time he slipped and fed off a human, a particularly rough wrestling match between he and I, one of he and Rose's first few make out sessions that destroyed three of her favorite cars (in the early days before they called the garage off limits), and a few other assorted pictures of Emmett being Emmett. I'm obviously not going to be able to persuade her otherwise, so I make a mental note to remind him to keep the playful violence low key for a while until she gets used to him. I suddenly feel a small surge of confidence and I ask her what I really want to know.

"I've been wondering something, especially now that you've shown me all you know about our family through those visions of yours. Of course you don't have to show me if you don't want to, but what did you know of Jasper before you met him? Was he what you expected? How did you guys end up traveling together? How in the world did you guys find each other?" I know that I've asked way too much, but once the questions started I found that I have a nearly endless supply of questions along that vein. Her mind is silent in response and I wonder how irreparably I've pushed the little trust she had in me with that unexpected barrage of questions about an obviously sensitive topic. While I'm considering what I could possibly do to regain her trust the images start coming.

At first I wonder if I'm intended to be privy to this recollection, but when I glance up at her she's staring right back at me. The first couple memories confirm what I had suspected about Jasper. They involved out of control newborns and I see the creation of scars I recognize seeing on him earlier. Occasionally he's joined by a mysterious dark haired woman, but most of the time he faces them alone. These memories come much slower than those of my family, often a memory or train of thought is cut short as she edits the direction of her thoughts on my account. Each picture seems to be carefully selected as she picks the ones she deems safe for my knowledge. I see Jasper speaking with the dark haired woman, their stance closed, clearly conversing about something confidential. Their posture is familiar, it seems like they are comfortable close to each other and I wonder if there is more to this than an odd sort of working relationship. Alice notices it too, and before she redirects her thoughts I see them in a darkened alley. As soon as they are out of sight of the street he throws her roughly into the yielding metal wall and they tangle into a passionate kiss.

This memory obviously shakes her and she spends the next few minutes fighting off one or two second beginnings of memories, cutting quickly and ending abruptly as she desperately fights to regain her composure. Obviously she and Jasper aren't involved in that way, so I wonder if her discomfort is only at the thought of him with another, or if it is something more profound. Given her response to Rosalie and Jasper nearly tearing into each other it's clear that she doesn't get along well with violence, but the memory seemed pretty clearly consensual to me. I do my best to distract myself while she pulls herself together.

I have a feeling that some day she might get tired of censoring even her thoughts. I wonder if that will lead to her running, or just letting me in. I'm realizing that as much as my family will be important to her experience here, if I don't earn her trust she won't stay. I put that away for later consideration as I hear Jasper and Emmett headed this way at full speed. I wonder if it would be better to let her finish pulling herself together or to warn her of the incoming visitors. I decide that their unexpected arrival will do nothing for her tenuous hold on calm so I warn her quietly of their current trajectory. I hear my words register a mere moment before they come crashing through the underbrush.

She starts but I hold absolutely still, watching through Jasper's thoughts to find the least threatening posture to him. I know that he's not happy to find me out here with her and I can only hope he'll be smart enough to take his own advice and wait to confront me without Alice present. In the end, the physical distance between us is what pacifies him enough to enter the clearing peacefully. I see him in Alice's sight before he comes into my vision. He looks like he's returning from the site of an axe murder; his clothing is torn and covered in blood. I allow myself to breathe and my suspicion is confirmed, it's human. Alice's eyes are wide, afraid to understand what she instinctually knows. She is momentarily distracted from censoring her thoughts and they begin flitting wildly between pictures. I give up trying to follow them; it's like trying to read a book while the pages are continually flipping.

Emmett, unsure of how to proceed, enters the clearing also. I shoot him a warning look and he comes only nearly as close as I sit, flopping indelicately onto the ground. I can see the shadow behind his demeanor and I quickly place its cause, he had to cover up Jasper's kill.

Jasper moves quickly to Alice and I catch him briefly survey her for damage with his eyes before he comes to rest gracefully beside her in the grass.

"Miss me?" His stiff composure betrays his casual words, but Alice smiles tightly in response, and that seems to calm him minutely. Her eyes travel from his face down to his torn and bloodied shirt. I can hear the internal war; she knows it isn't animal blood. The thought terrifies her, but she's ashamed of feeling afraid of Jasper, so she does her best to stay calm. The blood brings back a few more difficult to understand memories, a man with dark hair and red eyes, her arms wrapped protectively around herself, long gashes of red trailing angrily behind her fingernails, Jasper, close to her, too close? This is the only memory I am able to catch enough of the context to understand. I can feel her resignation as he leans down and his teeth pierce her skin.

I can't truly blame it on anything but my own lack of discernment, but the proximity of blood doesn't bring out my civil side either. Before a low growl can escape my throat Jasper's eyes are instantly at mine and he positions himself between Alice and me. I guess that answers Carlisle's question about the scar. I find the move oddly ironic; he's going to protect her from me. I manage to keep my voice civil, a true testament to my years. "Jasper, I think I need to speak with you."

I watch Alice's response carefully, but she is just distracted enough in her own struggle that she doesn't register what she has let slip. I'd like to keep it that way; I don't know how she'll react to my confronting Jasper based on something I learned from her thoughts.

"Like hell you do, I'm not leaving her with him." His tone comes out a low hiss and I'm reminded how very tenuous our ground is with Jasper, and therefore Alice.

This brings me sharply back to the subject of the conversation, who stays glued to her place. She's starting to shake slightly. She wants to go to Jasper, but the blood and his harsh demeanor take away that option. We've been out here a while and Carlisle has already gone into the hospital for the day. Esme took a part time job at a floral shop when we all decided to enroll in school to keep up pretenses, and so she left a few minutes ago, trusting Rose to be the calming force. She has much more faith in my sister than I do. I can hear her thoughts, she won't be much help.


	15. Baby Steps

So, here you go! Look at how normal this update time seems! I'm going to try to keep it about every week, so look out for a chapter around early weekend :)

Thank you to the two of you who have wandered over to the thread on Twilighted, (.?f=17&t=12601) you are both wonderful. Thank you for not leaving me hanging :)

Also, thank you to those on FF that have favorited or added this story to watch, I love hearing it and it's so encouraging!

I am always in the process of writing/changing/editing and rewriting the next two or three chapters after each one I post, so if you want to see something from a different POV (although I'm usually pretty thorough about that :) ) or really want to see something included, a specific introduction or assimilation or whatever, please review and let me know!

I work really hard on this and I love hearing that it made you think or being able to fit a request into a chapter! So, as you're thinking about that, here we have the long awaited Alice/Emmett bonding moment (after a little drama, just hold on a couple paragraphs)

Chapter 15

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

I tear back toward the house, Emmett roughly in tow. I can't believe I lost track of her, even for a moment, and it's probably been closer to an hour. As we near the house, I adjust my trajectory toward her emotions. She feels fairly calm, but I won't be satisfied until I can see that she is safe. As we near the clearing I feel someone else, Edward is with her. I force myself to slow down as we enter the clearing, I don't want to startle her. She is sitting on the grass, only a few steps away from the kitchen door. Edward is on the grass as well, his back to me. He doesn't move as I approach and I see that he's placed himself at a reasonable distance from her. He and I both know that he could easily get to Alice before she could react if he chose to, but Alice seems calmed by the gesture, so I suppose that if she is satisfied then so am I.

Alice's expression quickly falls from relief, at seeing me, to suspicion when her eyes fall to my ruined clothing. In my haste, it didn't even occur to me what I might look like to her and with Emmett right behind me I hardly had time to feed carefully. The beast in question falls gracelessly behind his brother and although I appreciate the gesture, I wish he would have gone inside. I can feel Alice's fear slowly building, but my senses are more attuned to the possible threat than the girl beside me. I can calm her later, when she is safe. I go to her, a brief greeting falling off my lips mindlessly as I survey the emotions of the two vampires facing me. Edward feels slightly irritated, but not aggressive or angry. Emmett feels only regret, I can't tell if he's still moping over the humans I killed or if there is some new cause. Neither of them seems to mean her any harm, but my nerves are about shot with the panic of realizing that I'd lost contact with her earlier, so I feel like I can't be too sure.

All of the sudden the inquisitive look falls off of Edward's face and his eyes shine hellfire. Although he keeps his tone and expression calm, I can feel the rage rolling off of him. Something just set him off, and I would feel much more confident if I had any idea what. He tells me he needs to speak with me, but I know that Alice is already upset, leaving her with Emmett right now seems like a terrible idea, and I tell him as much. However, as I watch his eyes burn I realize that Emmett is just as clueless as I am and seems to be much calmer. Given his morose mood over the death of a few humans, he might be safer around Alice right now than Edward. Before I can finish this calculation Edward speaks again. He's offering to speak to me with Alice here. He knows that I don't like leaving Alice alone, but he also knows that there is no way in hell I am going to find out whatever is going on with him at the same time Alice does, or really have him anywhere near her while he's this angry. Leaving her with Emmett is beginning to seem like the lesser of two evils. He can hear my resolve crumbling and stands, walking away from us. We both know that I will follow; I have to figure out what he thinks he knows.

I cast one last glance at Alice, her eyes still wide as she struggles for composure. I'm not sure she even knows what is happening at the moment, she probably won't miss me. I follow Edward until we reach the far side of the forest. I can still generally feel Alice, but we won't be overheard. I fix my best glare at him, hoping to coerce him into getting it over with. He doesn't take much convincing.

"You bit her."

I am temporarily stunned, of all of the things he could have figured out or learned that would piss him off, I didn't expect that one. Not that I didn't expect that knowledge to make him angry, but that I didn't expect him to find out so soon. It briefly crosses my mind that Alice may have told him while I was gone, but that doesn't explain the sudden reaction, and it seems unlikely that she would confide a detail like that to a near stranger. He answers my unspoken question before I can form it into words.

"I saw it in her thoughts. She was thinking about it when she saw blood on you."

I guess that makes a certain amount of sense. I hadn't realized it had bothered her that much; I'll have to be more careful hunting from now on. He interrupts my thoughts again.

"Hunting whom?"

"You assuming, arrogant-"

"I'm not the one with my canines tattooed in her neck. You can call me assuming, but I'm going on what I saw. Why the hell did you feed on her? Is that why you keep her around?"

*_*_*_*_Emmett*_*_*_*_*

Well, that was sudden. One minute I'm sitting here wondering what in the world we're doing having a four person powwow on the back lawn, and the next Edward and Jasper stalk off out of earshot and it's just me and the Chiclet, alone in the grass. She's obviously upset and I know without asking that Rose isn't ready to be much help yet. I'm not actually sure that she's still here; I don't hear her in the house. I hope that my brother has a damn good reason for leaving us here like this, because it isn't exactly my idea of a good time to sit here and scare the hell out of a toy sized girl.

I try to remember back to my first years with Rose, looking for some hint how to relate to her without freaking her out more. I wish, as I often did in those days, that I could channel Edward's ability for a while. I'd rather know something isn't working before I set her off.

I chance another look at her and find her staring back, her eyes a hurricane of green, brown and gold. Whatever is going on I know that Edward doesn't get that mad over just anything, and it is probably going to escalate. It would be better to not be in the way when that happens, having seen firsthand yesterday how truly fragile she is. I stand slowly and she doesn't respond except for following me with her eyes. I don't make a move to close the nearly ten feet between us, but hold out my hand in invitation for her to get up as well.

"We should probably get you inside, little bit." She's initially visibly alarmed, but when she sees that I'm not going to make her, she eventually slowly comes to her feet. Her eyes never leave mine. When I take a step forward she flinches but still doesn't move to go inside. I take another step toward her and a small, nearly unintelligible whimper escapes her lips. She takes a step away from me, but it's not leading her toward the door. I stop in my tracks, I'm missing something. If there is one thing I've learned about dealing with broken a woman over the years, it is that it's never a good idea to brush off warning signs like these. If you're causing them you better know what you're doing wrong. And I have no idea. I thought we were going inside, but apparently not. She obviously doesn't want me any closer to her, but she isn't moving to go into the house, just to get away from me. Something from yesterday is tugging at the back of my mind, but I can't place it.

"Alice, are we going into the house?"

She doesn't respond verbally, but the shaking increases marginally. I realize too late how that might sound to her and try again.

"I don't have to come inside if you don't want me to, but I think it would be safer for you to be out of the open, in case there's trouble."

This time I earn no response, she only glances worriedly over my shoulder in the direction Jasper and Edward had disappeared.

"They'll both be alright; they just need to figure some things out. They won't hurt each other, and they wouldn't mean to hurt you, either, but you're just a little more fragile than we're used to. I think it would be safer for you to be inside."

For a split second her eyes dart from me to the door and she takes another step back, this time more correctly in the direction of the door. Her careful movements remind me of when she came out of the house yesterday and I think I understand. I keep the same distance between us, but walk in an arc around her, toward the house. She turns with me, facing the house only when she can do so with my in her line of sight. I wait for her to move and she does, stepping inside the door. However, when she gets there, she doesn't keep going or close the door, she takes another step back and waits, her eyes expectantly on me.

I can see that she's still afraid, but I think it frightens her more to wonder where I am. I carefully walk toward the door, one step at a time, making sure to give her time to take a corresponding step back before I move. Finally we end up inside, with the door left open, shuffling in this odd manner toward the living room. As soon as I reach the far end of the couch I sit down, waiting for Alice to choose a place in the room. She finds the largest overstuffed recliner across the room and sits down, her eyes never leaving mine. It strikes me as funny that this microscopic girl chooses my giant recliner, the biggest piece of furniture in the room, but I know that it's not the time to share my amusement with her.

"There now, short stuff, isn't this better?"

She doesn't respond, but she doesn't flinch away either, so I take that as a good sign.

"So I guess you're not in the mood to talk, huh? How about we play a game?"

I don't get a response here either, but I figure in this case no news is good news. I spot a deck of cards on the table in front of me and retrieve it. I'll willing to bet she doesn't know too many card games, so I try to think of one we can play without getting any closer. It turns out, most games you do have to be in the same side of the room to play, so I decide on modification instead. Go Fish may be a simple game, but it gets complicated when you're playing from different sides of the room. I find another deck and this seems to be the solution.

"You know how to play Go Fish, little bird? We'll each get our own cards, okay? You get yours and take out six and leave the rest so you can't see them. I'm shuffling them so you can't cheat."

She may or may not have any idea how to play the game, but she's stopped shaking and doesn't flinch every time I move, so that is enough encouragement for me. "Okay, these cards are yours, I'm going to throw them to you, can you catch them?" Still nothing, I hope that she doesn't think I'm throwing them at her. I toss them toward her and she ducks, but catches them with her right hand above her head, still watching me. Pretty good catch for not looking, if you ask me. I think our new little sister has some spunk in there after all. Maybe once we get her talking she'll be fun.

"Okay, now take out the top six and look at them, and leave the rest so you can't see them, and I'll do that too. I'll go first. Do you have a nine?"

This is the proverbial moment of truth, I'm pretty sure that she gets what she's supposed to do, but she hasn't spoken a word to me yet and doesn't seem keen on starting now. After a few moments of just staring at each other she shakes her head, minutely. Small victories, I can feel the grin about to split my face. "Alright, so now I have to pick up a new card from my deck and you have to ask me if I have something you have."

The nervous look returns and she seems to be contemplating the request. Finally, when I was just about to give this up as a stupid idea, she slowly picks up one of the cards in her hand and turns it to face me. If nothing else, she is resourceful in her silence. I can feel the stupid grin return to my face and I lean closer in my seat, pretending to be unable to read it. "Good god woman, these old eyes can't see that far!"

This earns the tiniest tug at the corner of her lips and I know that she's going to be okay. She's still in there somewhere, and she's strong, like my Rose. She'll make it through just fine, she just needs a family. And we're just the family to help. I pull out the seven I just drew with a dramatic comment about the women in my life robbing me blind. I'm not sure how we're going to designate matches from this far away, but it doesn't matter much. "If you get a match, put it beside you on the chair and I'll put that card on the floor, and if I get a match I'll put it on the couch and you put it on the floor, okay?"

Having given up on getting a response from her, I'm shocked when she nods the tiniest bit. The ridiculous grin I thought was going to break my face gets impossibly bigger. She's a fighter alright.

* * *

So, did you think of anything? If you guys want something included I'd love to hear it, or if you want to see something from earlier in an outtake. Just let me know! I don't bite often.


	16. Fishing

A/n- I wanted to take just a second and say thank you to all of you here on ff that have favorited, reviewed, put the story on alert or generally showed interest. It really means the world to me, and I want you to know that I don't take you for granted!  
I love hearing from all of you, if you have a second, please review!

Thanks!

Chapter 16

Emmett

The two decks make the game take much longer, but neither of us seems to care. She's began to look at her cards, only stealing glances at me every few seconds. At the beginning of the second game, she pauses on her turn. Still sitting in her chair, her eyes watching me, she leans down and picks up the cards on the ground, keeping them separate but putting them in the other side of the chair. I wonder if the game is over, but don't make any move, waiting to see what she's up to before I decide how to react.

She slowly stands, her cards still arranged neatly on the chair, and walks around to behind the chair, walking backwards to keep her eyes on me. She grabs the back of the chair and slowly starts pulling at it, roughly in the direction of the wall. That particular recliner is one of the heaviest pieces of furniture in the house, the frame is solid steal and it's reinforced due to my tendency to fall into it and break it. The whole thing probably weighs at least twice as much as she does and I can tell that she's having difficulty moving it. Initially I'm a little hurt that she's moving away, I thought we were making progress, but I also know from Rose that things aren't always what they seem to be, so I wait it out to see what she's up to. I could see immediately yesterday that she's weaker than us, but I can see now that she's stronger than a human. I wonder how strong she would be if she wasn't half- sized.

I know that I could move the chair for her easily, but I have no doubt that that would be the wrong thing to do. So as contrary as it is to my upbringing, I sit and watch her struggle with it. Finally, she manages to drag it across the wood floor about six feet until it's nearly pinning her against the wall. Esme is going to be angry about the gashes in her wood floors, but she won't have a problem with it when she finds out that it wasn't Edward or me. She carefully walks around it again and sits down, seeming much more comfortable. She even pulls her feet up onto the chair, looking more relaxed than I've seen her in the time she's been in the house. Although it still looks a long way from at ease, it's a step in the right direction. She rearranges her cards and sets my pairs back on the floor.

Mid-motion she freezes, her hand still reaching down to arrange the cards. Her eyes that had just been watching me glaze over and I don't dare to move. I have no idea what is happening, but I'm not going to act and risk making it worse. A few seconds later she picks up a queen from her hand and turns it to face me, as if nothing happened. Although I'm dying to know what that was, I know that in the beginning you have to take the cues, and if she isn't talking about it than it isn't going to be talked about. I hold in a small sigh and go back to the game, miming my bifocal bit again and earning a tiny giggle. All previous frustration melts and I feel more accomplished than I have in a long time, I know it seems tiny, but for her it's huge. I set my queen on the floor and the game continues.

I try to think back on what humans look like when they're just hanging out. It seems like usually they have assorted snacks and drinks around. She is so tiny, and I haven't seen her eat anything since she got here. I don't want to push her, but I wonder if I could at least get her a drink of something. When it comes back to my turn, I set down my cards for a minute. I can see the guardedness beginning to return, she's uncomfortable just sitting here with me. I wonder what she's thinking, but I'm also glad I don't know. I don't think I could interact with her if I had any idea what she fears of me. I might not be able to ever leave my room again, in fact. I realize I'm giving her more time to get nervous, so I speak up.

"You want a drink? I think that's what you're supposed to have when you play a game. We have Coke… and juice… and some other stuff. What do you like?"

I don't get an answer, but I can see her mind racing through her expressive eyes, now a stormy gray. She hasn't spoken to me yet and I don't expect her to start now, so I don't know why I asked an open ended question. I doubt she'll speak until Jasper returns; she seems insecure in her interactions without him. I try again. "Do you want milk?"

She shakes her head slowly.

"Juice?"

The action is repeated.

"Okay, then I'm going to get you a Coke, alright?"She shakes her head marginally and looks like she wants to argue, but she's unwilling to speak so I get up and grab her one of the cans that has lived in our refrigerator for the last few weeks. We try to cycle things out as often as a family our size should need to. I don't know if this stuff goes bad, but just in case. I crack it open so she can't just look at it, and pour it into a tall glass, returning to the living room. Her gaze is cautious again, but not terrified.

Now the interesting part. I have to figure out a way of getting this drink over there without scaring her. I can't very well toss it to her like I had the cards. In the meantime, I'm standing in the doorway looking like an idiot holding a drink I can't consume and figuring out a way to get it across the room without going across the room. I briefly contemplate setting it on the edge of the coffee table and pushing it to her, so I could stay farther away, but quickly dismiss the idea. She's been in the room with me this long; it should be alright to set it by her. I take a step toward her and survey her reaction. She looks suspicious, but not too upset. "I'm going to come toward you, but I won't touch you or hurt you. I'm just going to set this on the floor by your chair and leave it there."

I don't get a response, but her wide eyes are still on me, so I know she's heard. I take another step toward her, watching her response, repeating the action until I'm about five feet away from the edge of the chair. I reach out carefully and set the glass within her reach. I then back away and sit back down, rearranging my cards and trying to act like nothing significant had happened. She didn't freak out, and whether or not she knew it was a big deal, it was. I smile to myself as she picks up the glass and take the tiniest sip, and smile even wider when, at the loss of a place to put it, she sets it on the corner of Edward's piano. He is going to flip. It is going to be hilarious. He can't even do anything about it either, because Alice did it. I like having a little sister already; she's fun.

I replace my cards and we go back to the game. She beat me the first time in a close game and I'm determined to even the score.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

I glance up at Edward, sitting across from me against a giant oak, recently felled before it's time. I can't tell if the human-looking figure torn out of the heart of the trunk was Edward or me, as I didn't pay careful attention to which of us destroyed which tree. Resigned, I offer him part of an answer to the question he asked earlier. I show him Alice in my arms, covered in her own blood after her panic attack. I showed him her scent, the deep pulse of the blood below her skin, the thundering of her heart. Then I showed him the odd sensation of tasting her, the instinctual wrongness. I know that he can't really understand this part from my memory, but it answers his question more or less. That's what happened.

Edward and I seem to have come to an odd impasse. I can feel Alice still and she's much calmer than I would have expected, which means I am in no hurry. We both know that we have to figure some things out between the two of us if I plan on letting Alice have what she wants, which is to stay here.

I'm unconcerned with the females of the coven, and Carlisle is around humans and blood every day. Rather or not she likes him, he's probably the safest of us all. Emmett is hulking, but it is becoming pretty clear that he knows how to handle himself around her, which I should have expected after seeing his mate's reaction yesterday.

Although Edward also seems to have an idea how to treat Alice, it won't matter if the two of us can't come to some sort of agreement. He hears our thoughts. Both Alice and I are uncomfortable with the idea, but in her secrets she's the victim, in mine I'm the villain. I need to know that I can trust him, that it's worth trusting him. I need to know that he cares enough to go through flashbacks and nightmares with Alice. I need to know that he is calm and discerning enough to hear me and my demons and know that this is them at bay. I draw my thoughts back, knowing that Edward heard what I would never say out loud to him, or to anyone for that matter. A new expression of respect has settled over his features and I know that if nothing else has come of this, we understand one another better now. I can tell that he still has something he wants to know, so I wait.

"How do you do it?"

I have no context for this question and therefore no idea what he's asking. Knowing that he can hear my lack of understanding, I wait for him to clarify.

"You were trained for decades to find weakness and eliminate it. You lived roughly and took what you wanted. How do you just… change, like that? I understand that you still struggle, of course, but how is it possible to so dramatically shift your whole worldview to see her as different from the rest?"

I don't have words to describe what happened when Alice took my hand in the dinner. I show him the memory, but I know that it means nothing looking at it from the outside. He would need more than both of our gifts combined to truly understand the shift of gravity that took place when she put her tiny hand into mine. I may not have let myself entertain it at the time, but I knew in that moment that something had changed and I was never going to be the same. I also knew that it had to do with the half- starved little girl who so brazenly took my hand.

I glance up at Edward and his expression is awed. I can't blame him; I wouldn't have believed it either. He moves to stand and I take my cues from him. Closing the distance between us, he holds out his hand to me. Although I know we're far from the friendly camaraderie I've seen between Emmett and him, I think this is the understanding we needed to find. I shake his hand and we turn back toward the house in silence.

As we set foot on the lawn, I hear Emmett's voice booming from inside the house, his tone authoritative, "Alice! Don't you dare!" His yell is accompanied by a spike in Alice's emotions and at the same time we take off toward the sound, Edward a half step in front of me. He nearly rips the back door off its hinges as it blows gently in the wind and we both skid to a stop in the living room. I'm absolutely floored by the sight before me. At our sudden intrusion both parties freeze. Emmett is in the middle of throwing playing cards from the couch onto the floor angrily, a guilty grin on his face. Alice is sitting cross legged on the giant recliner that used to be in the middle of the room, her arms in the air in a soundless victory dance. I must be mistaken.

Before I can fully process this shock, I feel the atmosphere sharply change. My eyes immediately find the two other males in the room, but neither of them is doing anything different. Confused, my eyes fall on Alice, hoping to find in her expression what has caused the sudden fear radiating from her. When her face registers in my vision, I find the cause, all right. Her eyes are glued to the now- dried blood covering my clothing, her gaze following the tears in my shirt across my chest in what are fairly clearly finger- width intervals.

Jasper and Emmett figure it out as well, and neither seems sure what to do. I know that they're not going to like it, but I hope that Edward and I's tenuous truce will extend me enough trust to grant the favor. I even manage to keep my voice a request, rather than a command. "Leave us, please."

I feel the warring emotions from Emmett and Edward, and more surprisingly from Alice. I'm suddenly very glad that up until now I've taken care of my hunting while she was asleep. She doesn't want them to leave. What sort of man am I that I cause her to trust two strangers more than me in the first twenty four hours we're here? After Edward and Emmett finish a nonverbal conversation, Edward turns back toward the door. He gives Emmett a final meaningful look and he reluctantly follows. I hear the door close and listen until they are well out of hearing range, both audibly and mentally.

"Alice…" I try to start, having no real idea what to say to make it better. The second I take a step toward her, her eyes are again glued to my shirt. Noting the small fire in the corner, probably for Alice's benefit, I walk there first, pulling my shirt over my head and depositing it into the fireplace. The rest of my clothing has trace amounts of blood, but nothing nearly as terrible looking as the shirt. I then close the rest of the distance between us, kneeling on the splintered wood in front of her large recliner. To an outside observer I might look like a subject waiting for her ruling. That might not be entirely inaccurate. I'm afraid that I've pushed her too far this time, a fear that's been building for a while. Her eyes are distant and I wonder what other horrors my careless mistake is inflicting on her. For the first time since we arrived here, my presence doesn't ease her anxiety. I feel like the worst being on the planet.


	17. Atone

So, we're finally getting back to a regular updating schedule!

I wanted to say thank you to my couple new readers, and especially to those of you who have commented, favorited or put this story on alert- it means so much to me. Thank you!

Chapter 17

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

I have no idea what I expected, but I can be confident in saying that I did not expect to be engaged in a silent children's card game. Of course I had been upset when Jasper left me with Emmett, but there was little I could do, frozen in the flashback his terrible appearance brought back. By the time I'd really recovered, I was alone with Emmett. All of the things I'd shown Edward about Emmett are absolutely true and only the beginning of my worries about him. When he treated me so carefully, I wasn't sure how to respond. Somehow he seemed to… _know_ what would and wouldn't set me off. I wondered briefly if he had some sort of gift as well, but I haven't seen it in the way he interacts with everyone else, so either that's not true or he hides it very well.

So now here we are, holding up playing cards and thoroughly enjoying it as much as any children for whom the game was designed. We're in the last couple cards of our first game, and the score is close. With this giant man in the room it is an absolute marvel that I can focus on anything else, but I do. I manage a lucky guess out of my last three cards and win the game. For the first time in a long time a real smile crosses my face as Emmett grumbles to himself about cheating, pint- sized pixies. I want to tell him that I didn't even cheat, but I'm not quite ready to speak to the others without Jasper around. Esme is one thing, but Emmett is quite another. Instead I settle on a gloating smirk- I know that I didn't cheat.

An idea occurs to me early in the game, but I am not sure what response it will elicit, so I don't act on it. When I entered the room, all of the furniture was gathered around the center, and although I found the farthest away seat I could, it's still surrounded by open space. I know that I would be much more comfortable if I was against the wall and could see someone approaching me from any direction. I know that it's somewhat irrational in a house with this many vampires, as they can move nearly faster than I can see, but it would make me feel better.

Finally, I decide that Emmett has given me no reason to doubt him so far, so I should try it. On my next turn I put down my hand and slowly get up, waiting for any reaction from him. I receive none, so I walk carefully to behind the chair. When I tug on it, I get no response at all. It's much heavier than it looks, in fact probably weighs significantly more than I've ever tried to move. I realize that the rational decision here would be to either chose another piece of furniture or ask for help, but neither seems like a better option at the moment. The recliner I'm fighting with is the only thing in the living room that is designed to hold one person, and I don't want the option of company.

As for Emmett, although he has done nothing to renew my distrust yet, I don't like much of anyone close to me in the best of situations, and so I prefer that he keeps his distance. I fight with it until I manage to wrestle it back against the wall. Although Emmett tries to keep his expression somewhat blank, I can see that he wants to help. I wish that I could tell him that he's doing the best thing he can to help me by staying there, but I can't bring myself to speak.

As I reassemble my game around me, I pause as a vision tugs at the edge of my consciousness. I briefly contemplate trying to push it away, to ensure Emmett's accusations don't become true, but I then realize how silly I'm being. I've never had visions of insignificant things, and however close to comfortable I feel right now, Jasper is not with me. I see Jasper and Edward sitting in the forest. Their surroundings are mauled, but neither man looks much worse for wear. Although I have no idea of its context, they shake hands in an almost trusting gesture. Their conversation will go well, and that thought allows me renewed enjoyment of our ridiculous game. I'm not entirely sure how long the vision took, but Emmett allows me to resume the game with no questions.

My thoughts float back to my impression of this family. Although the images I've shown Edward are a fairly accurate representation of my first impressions, I'm slowly realizing that he may be right. Emmett was one of my main concerns, and he is, so far, made no move to hurt or intimidate me. And earlier I was able to hold an entire "conversation" with Edward without Jasper present. I feel… hopeful… and not just blind hope, like finding Jasper before I knew him, or even of finding this family; it's the hope that's based on things starting to go well, for the first time in a long time.

We play in silence for a while, until Emmett sets down his cards. I am immediately more aware of the room, I don't know what he's doing and it makes me nervous. The rational part of my mind tells me that he means no harm, but the voice that I can't quite shake is waiting for the other shoe to drop. He doesn't move, just looks at me. I try to push away the thought of being watched and when the corners of my sight darken infinitesimally, to quickly push it away. Emmett has a wonderful family and a beautiful wife; he has no reason to hurt me. _More reason that he wouldn't leave you alive to tell._ I push away the thought immediately, he doesn't deserve this mistrust from me- he's been nothing but kind and accommodating. I manage to retrieve the calm mask I have created for such occasions to lessen the appearance of the truth on my face.

Finally he seems to come back to awareness and speaks. "You want a drink? I think that's what you're supposed to have when you play a game. We have Coke… and juice… and some other stuff. What do you like?"

The idea of something else in my stomach in unappealing, especially with the newly blossoming anxiety settling there. I want to tell him that I don't want anything, but I don't trust my voice or myself enough to speak. He takes my silence in stride and asks questions I can answer without speaking. He's doing what he can, but I notice that the first question is not whether I want a drink.

"Do you want milk?" I shake my head, hoping to get out of it. I wish I could find the courage to speak and distract him, because he seems pretty set on this idea.

"Juice?" I shake my head again, hoping that he will leave it alone. No such luck.

"Okay, then, I'm going to get you a Coke, alright?" I want to tell him no, but I can't bring myself too, he seems to have already decided. He disappears into the kitchen and returns with a tall glass of dark liquid. Honestly, I've never tried anything like that. I drank water and occasionally milk, once in a while juice, and that was it. It always seemed like a bit of an odd concept to me, making water fizz like its dangerous and dumping half a dessert into it, but apparently I'm going to try it now.

He looks unsure of how to proceed, so he just stands there for a minute. Finally he seems to have made up his mind. "I'm going to come toward you, but I won't touch you or hurt you. I'm just going to set this on the floor by your chair and leave it there." Despite the gesture, I'm nervous. I put back on my calm face so he doesn't see the war going on in my eyes, but I watch him carefully. I know that it's ridiculous to expect that he would warn me that he's coming closer if his intention was to attack me, but it seems like it would be more easily accomplished in the close proximity. He steps around the coffee table, close enough that I could nearly touch him if I reached as far as I could. He carefully sets the drink within reach of my chair and slowly returns to his couch.

He picks up his cards and resumes messing with them, and I begin to calm down marginally. I look down at the offending drink. It would be rude of me to just leave it there. I pick it up carefully, watching the little bubbles rise to the top and burst. I take a small sip, trying to hide my surprise as I feel the fizzy bubbles on the inside of my throat. It's very sweet, and other than the tiny burn of carbonation as it goes down, I think I like it. I look for somewhere to set it, but I've pulled the chair away from all of the other furniture. I have an irrational fear that if I put it back on the floor I'll knock it over, and the only other surface close is a giant black piano, situated in the corner and grounding the decoration of the room. I carefully balance my drink on the edge of the dust cover, looking back to find Emmett smirking into his cards. I can't tell the cause of his amusement, so we go back to our game.

A half an hour later we're in the final throws of the second game. I have just picked up my last card and Emmett has one still turned over. I have three cards to choose from, and he has two of them. It's my turn, and I know that if I guess wrong I'll give away my hand to Emmett and he'll win when it comes to his turn, we've been almost tied for most of the game. I close my eyes for a moment and decide on the six all the way on the left. You can't go too far wrong going in order, right? I slowly turn it over, and watch his expression change. I know immediately that I've chosen correctly, meaning that even if he gets both of the last two, I will win. He throws the remaining card on the ground with the six that I have just earned and starts whining loudly. "Alice! Come on!" I find it incredibly amusing that he knows my name only when I beat him at his own game and it gives me even more confidence. I meet his eyes for a moment and when I'm sure he's watching, I start in on a silent happy dance from my chair. "Alice! Don't you dare!"He half growls in the most playful use I've ever heard made of the sound.

The next couple seconds I store away later for figuring out. I hear a loud sound, the air shifts, and Edward and Jasper appear, looking more than shaken. Emmett and I freeze. Their expression is awed, and Emmett sort of clears his throat uncomfortably and starts picking up the cards he threw in frustration. I slowly resume my earlier position, cross legged on my chair with my hands in my lap. I don't bother to pick up my cards, they're fairly organized already and I'm waiting for a response from either of them. Edward looks shocked an amused. I can tell that whatever Emmett is saying in his mind is probably worth hearing, as the smirk on his face widens. My gaze shifts to Jasper and I freeze. There, all but forgotten, is the blood again. I can smell it on him, the pulse below my landlady's wrist, the steady beat of the kind shop owner's heart, not so different from the substance keeping me alive. His light colored long sleeved shirt is stained dark crimson and across his chest a perfect four parallel tears in the fabric are all that remains of someone's last attempt to hold on to life. His eyes are hauntingly dark red and I wonder if he'll ever develop a taste for my blood like my biological father.

I'm not aware of much outside of my mind for the next few minutes, but when I see Edward turn to leave I silently will him to stay. Somehow I feel safer with the others also in the room, as if whatever Jasper represents to me at the moment is neutralized by their golden eyes. Ignorant of my pleas, the two brothers file out with a last glance my way. For nearly a full minute, neither of us moves. My eyes are fixed on the tears in his shirt that represent the ending of a life. His eyes are fixed on mine; I can see it in my peripheral vision.

He says my name and I chance a look at his eyes, but when he takes a step closer my gaze reaffixes to the blood. I can tell that he's remorseful, but I doubt it is for the life he's taken. He comes toward me, pulling out of the offending garment and throwing it into the fire, as if that erased the deed. If the purpose is to distract me it is accomplished, but if it is also to calm me down it was not the right move. I know in my head that he took it off to make me feel better, because of the blood on it, but the fear whispers louder than the logic. I clutch my arms around the tattered fabric of my dress, trying my best to sink backward into the cushion of the chair. In my mind, there is no neutral scenario for taking off clothing, and I can feel myself start to panic. He's knelt on the ground in front of my chair, waiting; I don't know for what. I take a deep breath, trying to force logic into the place of irrational fear. If he wanted to hurt me, he didn't have to wait until now. He's been nothing but sweet to me and my visions led me here. His shirt is in the fireplace, but he didn't do it to scare me. Everything is going to be alright, somehow.

Gradually, as if pulled by magnetism, my eyes move to trace the lines of his chest. He's gorgeous, rugged and tough, and the unbidden observation only makes me more nervous. He's beautiful because he's a predator, the most dangerous of them all. He is part of the only race that is able to truly hurt me, and he's the one I've allowed too close. This glorious man has the power to crush me in a single moment, a single action. I realize that I've been shaking when I hear it escalate to my teeth chattering audibly.

The fire catches the scars on his face, his neck, his arms, and now his chest; each one serves as a siren, warning me away. I want to close my eyes, shrink away, but they are fixed in abject terror on his hands. I can't pull away my gaze. I'm waiting for him to reach for me, to find out that he really is as dangerous as my mind is telling me. My breathing is short and strangled and the edges of my vision are getting darker. I can't succumb, because I know what comes next. I can already hear the cackle of my young laughter in the distance. I will not do this again. With all of the determination I can find, I force my eyes to his. His expression doesn't change, it's pleading. I know he wants to speak, but he doesn't, waiting for me. I think he wanted to reach for me as well, but thought better of it. I see regret, hurt, and… fear? It is an emotion I can recognize anywhere, he's afraid. I can't imagine what is running through his mind right now, what in the world does he have to be afraid of?

I know that in the end, I'll forgive him and manage to live with whatever he's done. I can't imagine life without him. All of the counsel in the world couldn't warn me away from him. Somewhere along the line, he's taken the binoculars out of my hands and given me a kaleidoscope. I can't stand back and watch everyone else anymore; he gave me the right to live, myself. The colors might not make sense, but I'll give up understanding in exchange for the vibrancy and clarity of life with him. My existence in gray no longer holds any interest to me. As much brighter the light colors are, the dark colors are that much more intense as well, but I would spend the rest of my reality living in that darkness, even if there was no light, to actually feel for the first time. If this isn't reality, I don't want to know.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

There are many different kinds of fear in the world. The average person probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference in their own fear, much less in others'. The combination of my gift and my years on this planet give me unique perspective on the subject. There is irrational, selfish fear that someone will take something of yours, there is protective fear, the kind you feel for someone else, there is basic instinctual fear, the fear for one's life, and fear of the unknown, a sort of nagging, constant fear. I have just placed the difference in Alice's emotions, and I don't like it. There is another fear, one I've felt from her before and am now coming to identify. It's the kind of fear that is mixed with a sinking despair, a sharp misery, an oppressive shame and absolute helplessness.

I have no name for it, but I've felt it before. The sideways, fearful glances of a person toward their supposed lover, the irrational response of a child toward a formerly adored caretaker, the wild eyes of the woman cornered in the ally; I've felt it, all right. Now I feel it from Alice, and if I could go back in time and take the blood of those men off of my hands I would do it, no matter how satisfying the kill. I would throw myself into the fireplace after that wretched garment if it meant she would never feel this fear again. I despise myself for being the cause of it.

I kneel before her, as if I am arriving at confession. In reality, that is exactly what I'm doing. Her eyes are glued to my hands, waiting for me to move, to hurt her, to force her. I stay absolutely still, not even daring to breathe. Her breathing is loud and shallow and I'm afraid that she'll pass out if she doesn't stop hyperventilating. I would move away if I thought it would help, but I think any motion would be counterproductive, so I stay. Her arms are around her waist, her fingers dug into each arm and her posture hunched over defensively. The pressure on her arms has already broken the blood vessels under her fingers in big, angry bruises, so when her nails finally pierce the skin the blood flows freely. I want to take her hands away, to stop her from hurting herself, but I know that she won't understand right now. So I stay still, my eyes boring into hers, begging her to look up at me, to truly look at me.

I wish right now that we had never had the conversation about my gift, what I wouldn't do to help her calm down right now, to give her enough peace to at least release the death grip on her mangled arms. The room is quickly filling with the unique perfume that is Alice, tinged with the incense of dried blood being consumed by the flames. I breathe deeply, wondering if I will ever really get over the incredible sensation of her musky scent. Although I can think of a lot of other scenarios where her scent would be more enjoyable than bleeding out during a panic attack, it's beautiful and uniquely her just the same.

After what seems like an eternity, she raises her eyes to mine. I try to communicate in my expression both my apology and my desperation for her forgiveness. I can't imagine life without her. I also search her eyes for any chance that she'll stay. Her gaze is ambiguous and I learn almost nothing from it. Her emotions are changing so constantly that it's hard to get a read on one before it chances to another. I think she's sorting through something, weighing options or looking at possible outcomes.

"Alice, I'm… I'm sorry." The apology feels foreign on my lips. Before I met Alice I hadn't apologized for anything, not for decades, not since I'd been turned, but somehow it seems like the only right thing to do. Somehow everything is so different with her, I can see that she's changed me and somehow I don't even mind. I would do anything to make her alright, and I've made everything worse once again.

Her next movement shocks me so much that I almost pull away instinctually. She untangles one of her hands from its vice grip and moves it to my hair, the blood on her fingers mixing with the trace flecks of dried blood from my kill and the unreal sensation of her touching me. The intense heat of her touch feels warmer than the fire in the room, the heat leaving a trail behind, my skin cooperating with my mind in an attempt to memorize the contact. Her other hand hesitantly pulls through my hair as well, and I wonder that she's not more disturbed by her own blood streaking my light colored curls.

The play of sensations is mesmerizing, and for a moment I forget about the crazy emotions in the room and our current situation. She traces a bend in my now- strawberry blond hair around and follows the curve of my neck with her index finger, the other hand still buried in my hair. Other than taking my hand, this is the only contact she's initiated with me. I look to her eyes to find an explanation, but they are clouded. I wonder if this is some sort of a test, her uncertain emotions could mean that, but her expression is more than that. She seems just as unsure of _herself_ as she is of me. She's scared, but she's curious.

I feel her finger along my shoulder and recognize the trail; she's tracing long scars across my neck to the top of my back and arms, the angry shifts and raised skin bearing witness to the violence of my second life. The flow of blood from her arm is slowing, but the liquid that has already escaped leaves a trail across my bare shoulders; the bright red covering each white, faded scar. I watch as each line is highlighted, as if her blood could somehow heal the permanent reminders of my past, etched relentlessly into my skin. It's fitting, really; crimes such as mine deserve to be carved into stone, and my perfect memory can recall every agonizing moment of the engraving.

The situation feels surreal, her blood and scent and glorious essence consume me. Still, I don't move. Having finished my neck and shoulders, I feel her finger trace the top of my chest. That particular mark isn't from an angry newborn. The three parallel lines on the skin dividing my shoulder from my chest are eerily similar to those on the shirt I recently discarded. They aren't from any prey of mine either, not that anything I hunt could pierce my skin. The irony is not lost on me that the only exception to that rule is the woman touching me. I'm not sure if that is more of a lapse in my judgment or hers.

The marks are from Maria, and it makes me sick to think about their creation with Alice so close to me. Maria never wanted me to treat her with care; we both knew what we were to each other. She may have been under the impression that I was fooled, but she didn't take into account my gift. We certainly offered the expected words every once in a while, but we knew we were nothing but convenience to the other. "Lovers" is even too close of a word for what we were. We were nothing to each other but military cohorts and frequent trysts.

I feel closer to Alice when I'm not even touching her than I ever did in any situation with Maria. I wonder if Alice can heal even that scar. She traces each matching line, the blood having stopped enough that only the raised scar is highlighted, not even the skin around it. It's fitting. I wonder if Alice would ever look at me again if she knew where it came from. She would be horrified to know that we used one another like that. Maybe she would wonder if that's how I see her. I wouldn't even be able to explain how very different she is to me, but I would spend the rest of eternity a babbling fool trying. I know that she'll need to know someday, if she doesn't already. It occurs to me that her visions may have broken the news before it even happened, but I don't really understand how they work, so I'm probably not released from telling her myself.

I hear a car pull up, the engine would be a smooth sound to a human, but I can hear the harshness of the engine gears behind the hum of the muffler. The ignition cuts off and the first step into the garage tells me the newcomer is Esme. I try to look at our current situation through an outside perspective, but it looks horrific. It would be difficult to explain the intense moment happening without breaking it, so I look for Alice's response to see if Esme's presence has registered to her as well.

"We need to leave the living room if we don't want to be the center of attention. Esme is coming and she's going to be upset if we're still here like this."

She nods the smallest bit and moves to get up, catching herself as she loses her balance. I slowly move to stand and reach out for her. To my surprise, she reaches back toward me. I carefully pick her up, cradling her to my chest. I know that this may not be the best situation, but I can't think of another place to take her. I climb the stairs toward the guest bedroom, hoping that it's an acceptable destination. Although she's lost some blood, from what I've seen it shouldn't be enough to affect her. Her eyes are starting to grow heavy, and between her dizziness and lack of energy, I wonder if she's eaten today.

I hear Edward intercept Esme before she reaches the house to fill her in on the day's events, but all that concerns me is Alice. We reach the guest room and I move to set her carefully on the bed, but she doesn't release her arms around my neck. I sit down next to her and she curls herself up against me, miraculously fitting her entire body in my lap. She doesn't seem upset, so maybe whatever happened earlier was as intense for her as it was for me. Either way, she's had a long day, and she was already awake when I got back, so she didn't sleep long last night. There aren't really words that feel appropriate after a day like today, so I simply sit with her, counting her heartbeats as she falls asleep. I clear my mind of only the steady rhythm and pretend that I'm asleep too, the peaceful emotions of sleep drifting from her and making me wish I could join her.

My mind wanders briefly back to finding her with Emmett and I'm in awe. I would have never believed that Alice could adjust so well in such a short amount of time, and I know that it was because of Emmett's consideration. I wonder if all of the drama of our short relationship could have been avoided if I had any idea of how to deal with her, as Emmett seems to. For the first time in my life I regret the violence, the thrill of the fight and the intense game of battle strategy- I'd give it all up to know what Emmett knows about how to deal with Alice. Everything of my time with Maria taught me exactly the wrong things to do, if I would have left earlier maybe I would have held on to some shred of humanity that would be useful here, but I can't go back and change it now.

I don't know if we sit here for minutes or days, I tune out the rest of the house and focus only on the steady heartbeat above me, her deep breathing, and her fuzzy emotions.

Aaaaaannnnd go! Comment! Please! :D


	18. The Forecast

Soo... thanks for still reading! I wanted to say a quick thank you to both of you who reviewed last chapter, it really meant a lot to me

I've decided to stick to my optimistic idea of a review for every 100 hits... and right now we're just over 2300... which will, of course, get higher as you all read! So… we're not really there yet… but hopefully we'll get there ;)

So, if you have an extra minute after you read to help me reach my silly goal, it would mean a lot :)

So, here you go!

Chapter 18 *_*_*_*_Edward*_*_*_*_*

I hear Esme's car pull up. She's home early, and I wonder why. More urgently, however, I feel the need to warn her before she goes inside. I'm not exactly sure what she's going to find. I've been circling close enough to hear their thoughts every once in a while, just to make sure they're alright, and I've caught the strangest mood shifts. Of one thing I am certain; we are going to need new living room furniture, again. I saw from Jasper that Alice was bleeding. She seems to have an odd habit of guarding against everyone but herself.

I enter the garage casually, although Esme has certainly heard me coming. I hear Jasper suggest to Alice that they go upstairs, which seems like a good idea.

"Good afternoon, Esme. You're home early."

I can tell that whatever has brought her home is making her upset, and that she's trying not to tell me yet. "Yes, I suppose I am. Where is everyone? How was today?"

"Emmett is out with Rose, she took off shortly after you left, Alice and Jasper are upstairs, but I wanted to warn you about that. The living room may be a little… disturbing, but trust that no one is hurt and everything is under control. I think we've had a bit of a day of breakthroughs with Alice and Jasper, but unfortunately, those two put the 'break' in 'breakthrough', as I'm sure you'll see." I chuckle humorlessly at the situation, recognizing the truth of my words.

Whatever is bothering her is temporarily pushed aside as she wonders what is broken and how that could have happened if things were moving in the right direction. In retrospect, I probably should have warned her of my suspicion of blood. When we enter the living room, my senses are assailed with the permeating scent. The lingering traces of Jasper's kill, both the smoky scent of it burned with the fabric and the remaining blood on the rest of his clothes from his recent exit, continue to settle in the room, mixing with the scent of Alice's blood. There is way more of Alice's blood than I expected, Emmett's chair is nearly soaked through in a few places; the floor has trace amounts, some of it having soaked into the deep scrapes in the wood floor from Alice trying to muscle the chair back to the wall. Although the scent has cooled slightly, her smell is of heady floral and musky spice. Without Jasper's image of how wrong it felt to him, I wouldn't believe that he'd been able to feed off of her and stop himself without seriously injuring her.

Esme's eyes are wide as she takes in the room, recognizing Alice's scent immediately. "What on earth happened to Alice? You're sure she's alright?"

Although I haven't seen her with my own eyes, I can see her through Jasper's and hear her restful sleeping. "Yes. She's upstairs asleep right now, she drifted off with Jasper just a minute ago. The blood is hers, obviously, but no one hurt her. When she gets upset she… pulls in and tries to protect herself. Ironically enough, that's where the blood came from, she drew blood herself, her fingernails on her skin, I think. I saw from Jasper's mind that this has happened before when she was upset. I don't think she realizes that the pain is her own nails piercing her skin, she just draws into her mind and holds on for dear life."

She seems concerned at that news, but in my opinion it's better than any alternative.

"What made her so upset?"

This is probably the better question. I'm sure she has already sensed the human blood on some level; she probably just hasn't made the connection.

"Jasper's hunting didn't go as well as we'd hoped. He was trying to catch small prey animals and he caught scent of some humans. He is, of course, faster than Emmett and he had enough of a head start that he had no hope of catching him. Alice saw the blood and immediately knew what had happened. I gather from his thoughts that he's been careful not to feed around her. In his hurry he didn't have time to keep it neat this time."

She looks sad, but I can tell that she understands.

Emmett must have noticed my absence in the circuit I've been running, because he shows up, Rosalie on his arm. I can hear how drastically his thoughts have shifted after only a few hours with Alice, she's his little sister and he's worried about her. I wonder at the pull she doesn't seem to know that she has, she carefully tiptoes into the house and before we know it she factors into every decision. She has our hearts all right, and she probably has no idea.

He surveys the damage and sends me a critical glance. Rosalie sees it and responds with an exaggerated eye roll. For being the first to defend Alice yesterday, she seems to have quickly moved on. As soon as she decided that Jasper wasn't the one to hurt her, she reaffixed her flawless mask of indifference. If the rest of us can interact with her somewhat successfully, she sees no reason to get involved and risk having to relive the worst day of her humanity.

"She got upset after we left. Apparently she has a bad habit of hurting herself when she's upset."

He assimilates the news, initially wondering if I'm just repeating what Jasper told me, skeptical of its validity. He immediately discards this thought when he remembers who he's talking to, I would have seen the truth even if he tried to lie. It's very difficult to speak a lie without thinking the truth, as he's learned from trying to lie to me over the years.

He wonders if we shouldn't have gone, thinking miserably back to my insistence that we leave them earlier.

"We wouldn't have helped; it was something that she and Jasper had to work through."

He still holds suspicions that our presence may have been helpful, but I chose not to respond to them. From what I saw in their thoughts and what limited knowledge I have of them, I would be willing to defend my decision that we leave. She wasn't afraid of him, she was afraid of what he represented, of his actions. He'd been careful not to indicate his hunting habits to her before, and eventually they had to face it. This just happened to be the time.

Having assured everyone that she's alright and no one hurt her, I turn my attention back to Esme. "I believe there's a reason that you're home early, is there not? Is there something we need to know?"

She nods slightly, and leads us to the dining room. "I suppose this conversation possibly should include Jasper, but as he seems to be otherwise occupied, we can catch him up later. Carlisle's been following some disturbing news around the Canadian border, and it seems to be getting closer. He thinks there is at least one nomad headed our way, probably more. There were a few odd murders in Northern Montana, in usually quiet towns. They're not being very careful, and at the very least Carlisle intends to warn them if they make it this far north. They'll soon attract the attention of the Volturi, if they haven't already. In our earlier discussion we had agreed that we shouldn't move on yet, to give Alice some time to assimilate and call a place home, but Carlisle thought that we should verify each of your decisions, given that we could avoid possible interaction with the nomads if we moved on now, as we had intended before our new arrivals."

Emmett spoke up first, earning an annoyed glance from Rosalie. "I think we should stay. We can take care of them if they want trouble and they probably won't. It seems like Alice is just getting comfortable here, we'd have to start over somewhere else."

Rosalie responds quickly, before I have a chance to agree. "I still think we should go. We don't need to deal with any more of our kind and there's no reason to. We planned on going, and we should go. Just because two random people showed up yesterday and claimed to be long lost family or whatever shouldn't mean we change our plans."

Esme looks to me and I am not swayed by Rose's apathy. "I think we should stay, I agree with Emmett."

"Then I suppose we will stay. I also think that it would a stabilizing influence for Alice, even if just for a month or so, although Carlisle, as always, is looking to keep everyone safe. His vote is with Rose's, that Alice will be alright, and we maybe should move on. Thank you all for your input; I think that was the main thing we needed to talk about. Carlisle wanted me home early, in case it was necessary that we start packing immediately."

The rest of the day passes almost normally, each of us about our usual pastimes before Jasper and Alice arrived in our lives a mere day ago. Rose and Emmett go back out to the surrounding forest and I'm thankful, neither of them owns a mental or physical "inside voice" in any activity, so I'm glad to not know. I sit down to play for a while and my mind wanders into new combinations of notes, a tremulous ballad based loosely on Alice and Jasper's interaction. It's far from a completed song, but I enjoy the way my fingers journal so easily over the ivory keys.

Esme flits around the house, dusting nonexistent particles off of every flat surface and rearranging the living room furniture to accommodate two new pieces that she has already ordered to arrive this evening. She tells me in her thoughts what she hears in each new melody, and I'm pleased to hear both the accuracy of portrayed story in my notes as well as her own interpretation. She bought another ridiculously fortified chair for Emmett, and a smaller, overstuffed deep pocket chair for Alice in dark brown. It's an odd design, it looks like a quarter of a pie, the back cut to fit in a corner. She rearranges the furniture around the only true corner in the room and her expertise makes it look natural.

She allows an easy path to and from the future location of the chair without having to lose sight of any part of the room. The new design gives my piano its own area, and I don't mind that either. I can hear that she wants to see Alice again and is trying to be patient. She loves the idea of having a new daughter. She fills in the scars in the floor with a wood colored spackling and throws a large, ornamental rug over the whole thing. I'm impressed with her art; the room looks natural and intentionally decorated.

When Carlisle arrives home for the day he notices the changes, but chooses not to comment, knowing that Esme will fill him in later. He and Esme disappear for a while and I'm left alone in the house.

When they finally arrive back, I see that Esme has picked up some clothing for Alice and Jasper while they were out, and I think that they will appreciate it. She's excited to show Alice the three new dresses she's picked out for her, all in well-made, soft fabric. She debates going up to see if Alice is awake, as she may sleep more comfortably in new clothes, but figures that they will come down when they're ready, and she shouldn't rush them. She settles instead on laying the new clothing outside the door and hoping that they'll emerge soon. As the furniture truck arrives and the workers unload the new furniture, I sit back at my piano.

Although I can still hear Jasper's thoughts, they are quiet and subdued. I mentally transpose each piece into different keys as I play, and then into inversions and additions I would have made if I'd written it. I'm making a valiant effort to keep my mind to myself, trying to give Jasper and Alice some privacy. I fall into a strange, rhythmic pattern; key of A: I, IV, ii, V, iv- A, D, B minor, E, F minor… if only Alice could hear my thoughts, I imagine that I could easily put her to sleep each night at this rate. I play early into the morning, the sound drowning out Alice's breathing and heart rate upstairs, and I wonder when she'll awaken.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

She sleeps the rest of the day and into the night. She lets me hold her, and the sensation is enough to keep me occupied forever. I clear my mind and just stay, sitting here with her securely in my lap. I still can't get over the events of earlier; it feels like a long, strange dream. First I come back from our odd excuse for a hunting trip and she's out here with Edward. If I had to choose the least likely of those left at the house for her to sit down and hang out with, it would probably be Edward. They seemed absorbed in some sort of strange interaction. Then, nearly as soon as I arrived, we're leaving again. There is no way that I'd have agreed to leave again at all, much less so soon, but I didn't know what Edward thought he knew and I figured it would be safer to find out on my own than along with Alice.

After throwing each other around a bit we settle on this strange impasse. I wouldn't really call it fighting, because between Edward's gift and my battle experience there were very few unknowns. We head back to the house and before I know it I was shocked for the second time in the same day, something that rarely ever happens, much less so often. I'm becoming convinced that Alice is doing this just to mess with me, because it's working. She was in the house, alone in the living room with Emmett, throwing playing cards around like nothing is wrong. When I heard Emmett raise his voice at her, I was on my way to take his face apart. When we arrived, everything was too normal.

All of that commotion was over a game. More to the point, Alice was comfortable enough to play a game, alone in the house with Emmett, being competitive enough to beat him and gloat. I still can't make sense of the memory. I will now freely admit it; I know nothing about the beautiful creature in my arms. Everything I thought I knew was washed away in the triumphant smile I saw light her features. Apparently I need to talk to Emmett, he must know more about what I'm doing than I do.

It's dark outside again and Alice has barely stirred. I like to think that it's because she's comfortable, but I know that it's more likely that she's just exhausted. Time seems to pass too quickly because I know that soon enough she'll be awake and put more space between us. I can clearly hear Edward downstairs playing through a classical repertoire that would put any performing artist to shame. I suppose with an entire eternity to play, you would have time to do some serious memorization. Most of the pieces I don't recognize, having never had an interest or an opportunity to appreciate fine music.

Although the day has been up and down, I feel like overall it's been good for Alice. She's starting to build trust with the others, and although I enjoy her depending on me, I know that I can't always be there for her. Although immortal, she's still fragile, and I wonder if it's only a matter of time until she's fully changed. I look at her position through the jaded eyes of my past and it seems clear that she can't make it through immortality without being fully changed or killed. I hope that I'm wrong, just being cynical, but I'm afraid that sometime in the eternity stretching before us her fragile body will put her in that situation. She is so unique, holds such an amazing position through her very existence, and fate never takes kindly to those who are different.

I wonder if she would chose to die, if it came to that. She's lived for a century, maybe longer, able to be around humans, sleeping every night, eating human food and holding human pretenses. She's been young and beautiful and immortal while still alive; maybe she would welcome death when it came, as a natural end to her supernatural life. I know that I will never ask her, because I am too selfish to hear the answer and live with the guilt. If I had to make the choice to turn her or to watch her die, I would turn her. Even if I had to do so while listening to her beg me to let her die, I would turn her. I couldn't live without the knowledge that somewhere she still existed, even if she hated me for choosing for her.

I've always somewhat resented my immortality, seeing it as meaningless and monotonous. Since meeting Alice, however, I've started to believe that maybe immortality may be a blessing, rather than a curse. If not for all of eternity to figure it out, I would have never met Alice.

Had I survived my encounter with Maria, I probably still would have died in the war. If by some miracle I survived the war, I still wouldn't have found her. She was in a different state, and probably either locked away in an institution or at such a different age that it would have never worked. I don't know exactly how old she is, but it seems nearly impossible that it would have worked out, had we both been human. It is only the few lucky humans who happen upon their true soul mate in their lifetimes, and the rarer few that end up with them. Despite all that Alice has had to deal with, immortality has allowed us to cheat the odds and find each other, and that makes even the years with Maria worth it.

Hours after darkness has truly fallen, I feel her begin to stir. As her eyes open, I sense her surprise as she pieces together her surroundings. I remain still and silent, waiting for her response in order to decide my next course of action.

Thank you again for reading! Please review, it means so much to me and I promise to respond if you sign it! I apologize if I didn't on the first few, I may or may not have known how to


	19. Breakfast

Late? Yes. I'm sorry! I've been sucked into a future plot that has been taking all of my time and now I'm having to go back and write the bridge chapters and it's harder than I thought! At the end of this I'm going to have to go back and read these, it'll be as surprising to me as it will be to you

Also, I wanted to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed. It seriously means the world to me!

Chapter 19

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

As the hazy dreams float away, I become aware of the odd position in which I'm sleeping. It feels like I'm sitting up, but I can't remember why I would have fallen asleep this way. Before I can find an answer to the first question, another realization surfaces; I feel as though I've been sleeping a long time, but I don't remember even a single nightmare, or even having woken up at any point of the night before now. I open my eyes to find myself curled up against a hard surface, and even in the dark, I soon recognize it to be Jasper. Although that answers the question of why I'm sleeping like this, it makes the fact that I slept through the night without nightmares almost unbelievable.

I've slept for who knows how long literally touching Jasper, my face against his cold, bare chest, and I didn't have a single nightmare or flashback. The very concept is surreal to me. I intentionally look into his dark crimson eyes, not moving my face to break contact. I wait for the panic to arrive, for the awareness to set in, but it doesn't. He doesn't move, seeming to be waiting for me to act before he does. Slowly, still wary of my own response, I lift my hand from my lap and bring it to his face, gently tracing his cheekbones and letting my finger follow the lines of his jaw. I trace the side of his neck faintly, bringing it back to settle flat on his chest. The panic doesn't come, my breathing doesn't change, and the flashbacks don't resurface. I've never experienced anything like this before.

I'm tempted to try to go back to sleep, to close my eyes and push my luck, but I haven't felt this rested in a long time, so I probably should get up. My clothing is matted in my own blood and Jasper is still sporting quite a bit of it as well. I can't understand why that doesn't make me upset, but the dark crimson-black in his light hair doesn't even strike me is disturbing. I move a little to try to stretch and find most of my muscles very unhappy with me. I really must have been asleep for a long time. I glance at the window and find it to be the middle of the night. The last I remember, it was barely early afternoon, and the pitch dark outside couldn't be either late evening or near dawn. When I focus, I can read the clock on the far wall, even in the darkness, and it says that it's almost four in the morning.

"Hi," I manage, my voice scratchy from sleep.

"Good morning," he responds, a slight smile playing at his lips, and his voice the smooth silk I will never get used to.

"It's been a long time. Do they all think I'm crazy now?"

This pulls his smirk into more of a smile. "No, they don't think you're crazy. They're anxious to see you again though, I'm not sure they really believe Edward that I didn't hurt you, they just saw the blood and that the floor was all torn up."

The floor? I must have really messed it up with my attempts to move Emmett's chair! They must be so unhappy that I destroyed their beautiful hardwood floor with my carelessness. As if reading my mind, he cuts in.

"They don't care about the floor, Esme's already patched it and it's good as new. They care about you, not the wood. Also, I think that Esme went out and picked up some new clothes for you. If you want to go get cleaned up you can change and you might be more comfortable."

The thought of having a bath and changing into clean clothes sounds amazing. Jasper chuckles quietly, probably in response to some combination of my expression and my emotions.

"Alright, Darlin', we better get you up and to that bath before you explode with all this excitement, hmmm? I think Esme left your clothing outside the door. She told me that you're not allowed to try to pay her back, it's a welcome gift."

"She asked me earlier if I wanted to go shopping with them, I hope I didn't spoil her plans."

"I don't think so; I think she was just trying to make sure you had something to wear until you were up for leaving the house."

I'm a little embarrassed that she had to go so far out of her way, but anything other than this same dress is sounding so wonderful that I can't bring myself to worry about it. I carefully disentangle myself from Jasper's lap and go to the door, finding two large shopping bags on the other side, a small tag designating one of them as Jasper's and the other as mine. I smile to myself at the gesture; it's sweet to be taken care of, as if I really am the child that I look. I pick up both of them, depositing Jasper's at his side of the bed.

"Apparently you were included in the shopping trip as well." I can feel a smile trying to escape, she really did think of everything. I can hardly imagine Jasper in some store trying to pick up clothing, so it was probably just as well.

"I think Edward may have told her the fate my shirt suffered. She's very thorough, if nothing else."

Feeling oddly bold, I sit back down on his lap. He seems surprised, almost as surprised as I am, at my boldness, but he doesn't comment or move to put space between us. I put my head back against his chest, relishing the contact for one more moment before I leave to get cleaned up and dressed and he does the same, undoubtedly involving the addition of a shirt to his current attire.

"Thank you for staying with me last night."

He doesn't answer, but carefully moves his hand to tangle into my hair, holding my face gently against his silent heart. He takes an unnecessary breath that seems to express our unwillingness for the moment to end, and then he releases me and I take my shopping bag with me into the guest bathroom. Before I close the door, I chance one more look back at Jasper. He hasn't moved at all, his eyes still following me.

I give him one last shy smile and close the door, turning my attention to the shopping bag on the floor. I empty its contents onto the counter, feeling the soft fabric against my skin. I carefully sort through the clothing, my fingers trailing along the beautiful articles. She's picked out three different dresses, two the slightly shorter style that is currently more common and one longer, like the dress I currently wear. She includes new undergarments and even a set of pajamas, as well as a robe like the one that lives in the bathroom, although slightly shorter and a dark green instead of the black of that robe. I can't wait to get cleaned up and changed into these wonderful dresses. They're new and beautiful and soft, I can't picture anything better right now.

*_*_*_*_Edward*_*_*_*_*

Finally, after what seems like days, Alice wakes up. In another hour or so, she finishes getting cleaned up and arrives downstairs in her new clothing. I can tell that she is enjoying it; every time she is holding still she is playing with the fabric. I wonder how long it's been since she had new clothing to wear. Her old dress was torn and threadbare, as well as quite a bit too big for her. It clearly wasn't made for her, unless she used to be several inches taller and about twice her current size, so it was probably started off second-hand and is now way past its expiration date.

As soon as she comes down the stairs, Esme rushes to greet her. She tries to be discrete in surveying her for damage as she accepts Alice's gratitude for her new outfit, but her real motivation is fairly obvious. What she doesn't realize is that even if Alice were injured yesterday afternoon, which she was, any sign of it would be healing by now anyway. When she's content that everything is in order, she ushers Alice into the living room to watch the sunrise out the front bay windows. She proudly shows Alice to her chair, telling her that it's hers and no one else is allowed in it. She seems pleased with the concept, and I'm impressed by Esme's forethought. Giving Alice something in one of the public rooms that belonged to her would be a good way to make her feel safe and remove some of the unknown related to being downstairs with the rest of us.

Although Jasper hasn't arrived downstairs yet from cleaning up, I can tell that he's monitoring her. I saw from his mind that he didn't expect her to sleep so well, as she usually has nightmares if she sleeps long at all. I guess he figures that after the second night in a row without nightmares she's long overdue and is keeping tabs on her like she's going to break any second. I can't help but to be amused by his vigilance, but it seems unlikely that Alice is just going to snap. She's here with Esme watching the sunrise and perfectly calm, but I don't fault him for being a little paranoid. Finally, around the time the sun has made its full appearance, he descends the stairs and moves to sit in the chair closest to Alice's corner.

"You eaten yet, Doll?" He keeps his tone casual so as to give the impression that this is only a routine question, rather than a serious inquiry,

She raises a dainty eyebrow in his direction, "have you?" She asks with mock sweetness.

I manage to reign in an incredibly undignified snort of laughter. I can't sort out if the response is appropriate, I know that Jasper feels bad about yesterday, and he was just trying to be considerate when he asked, but seeing Alice's sarcastic side is amusing. After a brief, shocked moment, she cracks a small smile and snickers a little; we can't help but to join in.

"So off to the kitchen?" Esme offers, trying to patch the moment of tense silence. We all move willingly to the next room. All except for Alice, at least, who seems like she wants to protest. By the time she has time to pull together an argument, we are already moving.

Carlisle and Emmett come down then, joining us as well. We all wander to the kitchen and settle around the room, perching various places around the room. I listen closer, but she doesn't seem too alarmed by all of our presence. She is very aware of our relative positions, but doesn't move to change it. Jasper is sitting next to her, clearly not offended by her earlier comment. He doesn't touch her, just sits close.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

As the group moves toward the kitchen I know that there is no chance that I'm going to eat in front of the whole family. I take a deep breath and try to calm down, sitting down at the counter. I'm acutely aware of the location of each person entering the room.

Esme stands at the stove, pulling things out of cupboards. Jasper sits next to me, probably trying to shield me from part of the room. It's intended to make me more at ease, but I'd rather be able to see. I hear Rosalie come downstairs and leave through the front door; so much for a vote of confidence. Emmett enters the room anyway, standing just inside my peripheral vision to the right. Carlisle sits across from me at the island counter and Edward sits on the counter opposite Emmett. When I face Esme at the stove, sitting sideways in my chair, I can see Carlisle, Edward and Emmett, leaving only Jasper behind me and out of my vision. Although I would rather see him too, it seems like the best scenario. Turning to face him would put Esme at my back and, more importantly, Edward behind me.

Having settled, a quiet hum of conversation begins around me, but I process very little of it. How am I going to get myself out of this? Even though I've spent a fairly successful day with them yesterday, it still isn't enough to override my instinctive distrust of the males of the family. Adding to this distrust is my perception of the woman of the house; Rosalie's frigid demeanor and the probably unfair assumption that Esme would go along with anything Carlisle did.

I can't eat with them here, not generally here and certainly not physically here. I've been here a full day, but I came here smaller than I've ever managed to make myself, because of my time with Jasper in the few days before we arrived. What if they have only treated me thus far as the child that I look? I can't risk going back to a regular size for my eternal age; I don't dare tempt fate by allowing it my regular shape to toss about. Even if I could trust them not to notice me if I regained weight from my current semi-skeletal shape, I can't let down my guard for that long. I am alert and careful when I don't eat, always aware of where and am and with whom. When I'm not constantly aware of my hunger, I'm not constantly aware of anything. It serves as a reminder that not everything that looks safe is, and nothing is ever completely or permanently trustworthy.

Even if I could let down my guard here, I couldn't eat with all of them in here with me. I can't allow that breach, to let them see me give in. I can't show weakness around them, not any more than is inevitable because of my relative weakness. I may not be able to beat any of them in a fight, and if they wanted to do anything to me they would have no trouble physically restraining me. This, however, was something that has always been in my control. They can't make me act in this scenario, any more than I could make any of them feed. I could tempt them, sure, but I couldn't force them, and they can't force me.

When I finally give in, as rarely as I can manage while still keeping up some semblance of strength for daily tasks, I feel like I'm showing weakness, inviting attack. I feel as though I'm asking for another Charles to show up, someone else to hurt me, making myself stronger and more attractive; not strong enough to fight back, only strong enough to make a better target.

So now they all gather in the kitchen, a light conversation humming around me, and expect me to direct Esme in my preferences or chose something myself to eat. Esme tries to busy herself pulling out choices from around the room, but I don't know how to get myself out of this. Of one thing I am absolutely sure, any scene that might develop if I don't go along with it is better than eating in this room with all of these people. Although I know that it won't work, I decide to start by declining politely several times, to at least set the stage for stronger protest if necessary.

"I'm really not hungry, but thank you for your concern. I'll probably eat later in the day; I don't need to eat very often to sustain myself."

Esme shakes off my comment, still pulling things out and setting them on the island for my inspection.

"No, really, I don't get along well eating in the morning anyway, it usually just ends up making me sick. I think I'll pass this time."

Although he is out of sight, I can almost feel Jasper's displeasure seeping from his posture and mirrored in the others' expressions as they look past me. Damn vampire, leave me alone. I straighten my posture in response, both to show Jasper that I mean it and to try to attract attention away from him and back to what I am saying.

"Actually, I can't eat a lot of this stuff anyway, food allergies I've had since a child and the like." It would be much easier to gage how well I'm doing in my convincing if the whole room's attention wasn't on Jasper. What is he, my nanny? I bristle at the thought that they would look to him to validate the only decision that no one can force on me. He may be stronger than me, faster, and the closest to me, so probably the easiest person to be able to hurt me, but he can't take this from me, can't speak over me on this issue. I may not have control of much of my life, but this is mine. How dare he try to take it from me? I realize that the hiss in my thoughts has become audible when every eye in the room focuses sharply _on_ me, rather than behind me.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, attempting to calm my nerves and speak civilly. They don't understand what they are doing, and it wouldn't be fair to blow up at them, they're only trying to help.

"I would appreciate it if you would address me, rather than Jasper. Last I checked this does not pertain to him." I try to keep my voice even, but I don't trust myself to open my eyes. "I am not going to eat right now, and I would like this conversation to be over."

The room is silent for a moment. I can tell that Jasper wants to argue, but doesn't dare out here in front of the others. Everyone else is probably too shocked to respond; I've barely spoken in front of most of them, much less so forcefully. Edward recovers first, and I wonder if it's because he heard the progression in my mind foreshadowing the outburst.

"Well, I guess that's about enough of that for now. Esme, maybe Alice would be willing to go with you to the store today to pick out some things she likes for later? It may be easier for her to choose for herself, as we have to buy things either way and we don't eat."

Although I'm thankful that he stepped in, I don't really want to go anywhere; much less somewhere I will be expected to show a preference, about food no less. However, before I can push my luck by trying to get out of it, Esme speaks up and cuts off my chance.

"Oh, yes, dear, that would be wonderful! I can never get any of these guys to come along with me, and grocery shopping is really very dreary when no one in the house eats any of it. I usually go on Sundays anyway, and if you'd be ready to go pretty soon we could get there and get back before too many people would be around in the stores. What do you say?"

She already seems so excited about it that I can hardly say no. I would be mad at Edward for suggesting it, but he did get me out of my former debacle, and this isn't nearly as bad as the alternative. Besides, maybe if I go along I can pick out some things that I can't possibly gain weight eating, but would be enough to keep up appearances and get everyone off my back about it. I doubt they would keep up with what I should be eating after so long of being unable to eat human food themselves.

The easiest way may be to just drink blood as they do, but I imagine that skipping all of the steps of metabolizing would probably have the opposite effect I am looking for. Also, I have an inexplicable revulsion to blood, even animal blood. I know, or at least I think I know, that I am designed to be able to drink it, and it even smells good to me, but I can't bring myself to even think about it without gagging. So, I suppose that this is the best I'm going to get.

I realize that she's been waiting for a response, so I offer her a small nod and start planning out my list as I excuse myself upstairs to retrieve the warm looking cloak that Esme tucked in with my new clothing. The cold may not bother them, but it feels particularly shocking on my burning skin, so I'm grateful that she thought of it.

I take an extra moment to prepare myself for the excursion. I know that it's not that big of a deal, we're only going to the grocery store, but I think that Jasper is not invited, and now that I've finally found him it's hard to let him go, even for an hour. I pull the fabric tight around my shoulders and find matching boots in the closet. She really has seemed to have thought of everything. I make a note to thank her later and head back downstairs.


	20. The Excursion

So, two notes.

One, Please make sure you read chapter 19 first, this one is coming right behind that one, and it won't make much sense if you miss it

Two, I was overwhelmed by the response on chapter 18, but I'd love to hear that much on the last chapter or this one! We still have a bit to go on our goal of a review for every 100 hits, we should be at 27 before anyone reads this chapter, which, of course, we're not :) So, if you support my silly goal, or at least support my silly story, please review!

So, here we go! A brand new point of view for the holidays! Hopefully we'll get to the holidays here about the same time as real life, wouldn't that be nice? Please review! It makes me write more! This chapter was motivated from all of the new reviews on Twilighted, so the next one should be from FF representing!

Love you all!

Chapter 20

*_*_*_*_*Esme*_*_*_*_*

I watch her disappear upstairs, hoping that I haven't overstepped my bounds in asking. I take comfort in the fact that it was initially Edward's idea, and he wouldn't suggest something that would make her upset. I know that all of my family cares about her, but Edward seems to have a special bond with her. He is always a little closer to people than they know he is because of his gift, but Alice's silence leaves the rest of us in the dark, assigning him the role of mediating and trying to understand. I wonder if even Jasper knows Alice as well as my son does. She really is a sweet girl, and seems to have placed herself directly in our hearts in the short time she's been here. I can't help but wonder if she could have been perfect for Edward, had she not come here so obviously attached to Jasper. I love him too, as the newest of my sons, but I wonder what could have been. Jasper and Alice are hardly a perfect couple, hardly a couple at all, but I hate the thought of the whole house being paired off with only Edward alone, again.

I know that I'll get in trouble for thinking like this around Edward, but he seems to be occupied for the moment. I tune back into the conversation to find my sons trying to decide on an activity while we are gone. I can tell that Jasper would much rather come with Alice, but given his most recent slip up, it seems wise that he stay away from humans. I hope that he will trust her to me, if only for a quick trip into town. Maybe we can even stop by one of the clothing shops on the way. It wouldn't take too long, and it really would be nice for her to have some clothing actually fitted to her. I did the best I could at guessing her measurements, but I noticed when she came down this morning that her dress was still a touch too big. I guess I underestimated how small she really was under that giant stained shapeless dress that she wore here.

I hear Emmett, my sweet Emmett, suggest wresting, as is always on his mind. I'm sure he's excited at the idea of having an opponent that can't read his mind. I'm not so sure about the idea though, and I don't know if Jasper is either. Jasper very obviously carries more than a few battles on his person, etched into his skin as permanent reminders. I doubt that fighting is recreational for him, and I don't want to upset him. I also want all of my sons in one piece each when I come home. I decide to suggest an alternate activity that involves less opportunity for maiming.

"Maybe you boys could show Jasper the cars while we're out? I bet even Rose would be interested and that might draw her back around the house. You could start figuring out Jasper's taste in cars, it's never too early for a Christmas present, he'll need a car eventually."

I love my own idea, knowing that the only thing other than Emmett that could surely draw Rosalie back to the house is talk of her cars. I don't think that she's avoiding Jasper, just Alice. I think that Alice reminds her too much of her own past, something that she will need to work through on her own, but at the very least she can learn to deal with Jasper. I also like the idea of being able to get something for Jasper. I know that Alice probably doesn't care about much past the essentials and getting over the newness of it all for now, but Jasper doesn't have to deal with all of the rest of that stuff, and I really want him to feel welcome here too. I know that our kind doesn't usually bother with cars, but maybe he too could grow to love the pastime that my boys, and my Rosalie, have taken to.

The conversation quickly picks up around the cars and I know that I've suggested a hit. Hopefully it will keep them busy long enough for Alice and I to have a little time out of the house. Carlisle steps to my side, touching my arm in a silent question. I love this man, even though we can't hear one another's thoughts like Edward, we communicate just as effectively without words. He's asking if he should come with us. I know that he would love to spend some time with Alice too, and of course I'd love his company. I don't know how Alice will respond to going out for the first time with him, and I know even less if Jasper will allow it. He's already unsure about Alice leaving without him when she's only going with me, but maybe Carlisle's presence would be a relief to him, to have another set of eyes to keep Alice safe.

She steps back into the room, looking adorable in the cloak I'd purchased last night and her tiny matching boots. Both items are definitely too big on her, but the odd effect is endearing, making her look even younger than she is, but also a lot more carefree. I decide to ask her, knowing that if she really is uncomfortable with it Edward will know, and if Jasper is too set against it he can say so.

"Alice, dear, would you mind if Carlisle comes with us?"

I can see the indecision in her eyes. She hasn't had much interaction with him and is probably still nervous about the whole idea, but she doesn't look totally against it, and so it would probably be good for her. I am glad that I didn't ask Jasper first, especially after her outburst earlier. It didn't occur to me that she hasn't been with Jasper long, and despite her young appearance, she is not a child to be talked over. I immediately felt horrible for making her feel that way earlier and am trying to make amends.

She looks to Jasper, probably looking for a way out. Despite the flash in his eyes when I first mentioned it, he has fixed a fairly neutral expression on his face. Perhaps he is also trying to mind her words earlier. Not receiving back up from Jasper, she seems to resign her unwillingness. She nods slowly, and I smile warmly in response. This will be fun, just Carlisle and I and our newest daughter to spoil. Jasper will be fine here with the others, and it will be some much needed time for him to assimilate with them.

"Well, then, we'll be off! We'll be back before dark for sure, but we might go looking around some other shops if Alice wants, so don't be alarmed if we aren't right back."

Alice looks slightly alarmed already, although the statement wasn't really directed toward her, but I'm hoping that once we get out she'll enjoy herself.

"Alice, you want to run up and grab the other dresses I got for you? They're still too big, maybe we could leave them with the seamstress to get them fixed too so they'll fit better." She nods and turns back toward the stairs, quickly sprinting.

I take Carlisle's hand and we head out the side door so that Alice can follow with us in her sight. The others file back into the living room, Jasper lingering a moment longer. On our way out, Alice returns downstairs, stopping at him before she heads to the door. He looks deeply into her eyes, seemingly looking for any sign he should intervene. When he doesn't find it, he slowly reaches for her hand, giving her time to move away, and gently squeezes it reassuringly, turning to follow the others.

Carlisle pulls the car around while I wait out front. Alice comes to stand next to me, shivering slightly despite the warm clothing.

"Do you need another jacket, Alice? I'm sure we have something else around if you're still cold?"

"It's alright. I'm usually cold." This seems like an odd statement to me, but I don't question it. The black car pulls around and I'm faced with another decision. I offer her the front seat, but I realize too late that she probably won't enjoy sitting up front with Carlisle. She declines and moves to sit in the back. Not wanting to miss a chance to spend time with her, I declare Carlisle our chauffeur and climb in the back too.

"To the grocery store!" I exclaim, earning an indulgent look from my husband.

"So Alice, as I said, I was thinking we may want to stop by the seamstress in town. Is that alright with you?"

She gives me a small nod, looking out the window. It occurs to me that she may have never had occasion to ride in a car before, as I have no idea how old she really is. My previous statement seems to have elicited next to no response, so I try a more basic question about something I know she cares about.

"So Alice, how did you and Jasper meet?" I have no trouble remembering Jasper's brief retelling a few nights ago, but I'm curious to hear more, and specifically to hear Alice's side of the story.

As immediate reinforcement, so looks away from the window. I can tell that Carlisle is curious as well, his posture shifts minutely toward us in interest.

"I met him before he met me. I saw him. From the beginning of when I became alone, he's almost all I saw. Him and…" she trails off as if she's not sure she should continue, but seems to decide that she should, "I only saw him and occasionally you guys. I saw him almost every day, because after the first few times I couldn't help but look. Some days I would get too upset to look for him because I'd found things that scared me. Those days, when I blocked myself from seeing him, I would see some part of your family. There was never any question over which came first, but I also knew that you and him all were connected, somehow.

"So anyway, I would see him all the time, but I was so afraid to meet him because of all of the things that I'd seen of his life. So many times I decided that I would go to him, even found a place that he would be in my visions and went there, but I always left. I wasn't brave enough to stay and take the chance that he might hurt me. It was safer to run away and be alone than it was to trust him when he didn't even know I existed.

Finally, after four or five of these incomplete visits, I went to where I next saw him and just stayed. I moved to the town and sat in that coffee shop every day for over a month. Finally, he came. I almost lost my nerve again when I saw him, but I knew that he was too important to let go again. So I walked up to him and did the scariest thing I could think of. I grabbed his hand and left with him. He'd never seen me before in his life, so needless to say it was a bit risky, and in the beginning we still had a couple… mishaps… but we figured it out and now I'm glad I finally stayed."

"Well we're glad you did too, otherwise you wouldn't have come to us yet either." This is the most I've heard her speak all at once, and I'm excited to hear her speak seemingly uninhibitedly.

"That's true," she muses, her voice far away again. In no time we're pulling up to the grocery store and we all pile out of the car. Carlisle grabs a cart and Alice and I trail behind.

"Well, needless to say I don't have much input, so I think we should just go down every aisle and you can pick out whatever sounds good. Please don't be shy, we're going to be buying food either way, at least this way someone can enjoy it."

She nods, and I move to put my arm around her. She doesn't flinch away, which is surprising because I didn't think to ask her if she would be alright with it. When I decided for sure that she was alright with it my smile probably could have powered the store. Carlisle shoots me back a knowing smile. This grocery shopping is going to be the best ever.

We make our way slowly through the store, and although it takes some initial prodding, she picks out a few items for herself. I notice that she chooses fruits and vegetables over almost everything else and I store that away for observation. Maybe she just eats healthy, but she's so small as it is.

I take a moment to step back and watch as Carlisle pulls random things off the shelf and Alice selects one or two carefully from each aisle. We look like a strange family to onlookers, but I don't care.

"Do we need any… spicy gravy mix, Alice?"

She doesn't seem to recognize that he means it as a joke, and shakes her head solemnly. I think the giggle from me is what gives him away and the tiniest smile tugs at her features. We finally make it to the last aisle and we've managed to coax Alice into a few more things that she may like. Halfway down the row, the human bent over looking at breads straightens up and I recognize her as Edward's history teacher. I think about trying to make a quick getaway to not have to explain Alice, but I know it's too late.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cullen, how wonderful to see you! And who is this little one, a new child staying with you? How exciting! I can't wait to meet you at school tomorrow, little miss! Aren't you just the sweetest little thing?"

I discretely move to block Alice from Mrs. Baylor's well meaning head pat and I smile, not having time to get in a word edgewise before the woman flits away. She really is a sweet woman and Edward says that she really is just authentically busy like that all of the time. She's from down South and she loves her students and her job but she sometimes tends to be a little overbearing to meet for the first time. I risk a glance at Alice to find her eyes giant and her mouth the slightest bit open in surprise.

"Who-? School-?" She doesn't manage full questions, but I understand where she's going with it. We quickly rush through the checkout line and find ourselves back in the car where we can speak without being overheard.

"Oh dear, don't you worry. We can fix this. We could move on anyway, we had considered it anyway, pull all of the others out of school and blame it on a job transfer, couldn't we Carlisle? Or we could say that we're homeschooling you, or something. We'll think of something, darling, don't you worry about it."

"The others go to school?"

She seems highly skeptical, but this is to be expected. I doubt she's ever considered such a thing, it's hardly normal that Edward, Emmett and Rose pretend to be perpetual high school students.

"Yes, dear, they do. They go to the local high school wherever we live so it doesn't look suspicious when we arrive as a family."

"But they haven't been in school?"

"Well it has been fall break for them, but they go back tomorrow."

"If they go to school then I should go to school." Her tone is set, although I can tell that the idea scares her.

"Oh Alice, you really don't have to do that. It wouldn't be a big deal to explain your absence to the school, they think that each of you is adopted and they would understand if you weren't ready for public school quite yet if you really were adopted."

Her tone is more firm and I flash back to her frustration this morning, taking warning that she isn't as young as she looks. "If they go to school, I go to school."

"Well alright. I guess that settles it. We can leave a message for the school and get you all set up for tomorrow. That does mean we'll need an extra few things for you to be ready, but we're already in town so it shouldn't be a big deal."

She nods, pacified for the moment, but then her eyes meet mine again, seeming to have remembered something.

"Will Jasper come to school with me?"

My heart sinks. There is no way that he will be alright around that many humans so close together, much less with nothing else to do but think about their blood. High school is beyond boring for our kind and I can't even imagine how the others do it when they've scarcely known anything but our way of life. It would be nearly impossible for Jasper and I don't know how aware Alice may be of that fact.

"So, no." She deduces from my silence. I shake my head in confirmation. "Well, I guess that makes sense. I'll figure it out."

She is quiet, but I don't think that she's going to take back her decision. She seems very set on doing what the others are doing, and although I am not sure she can handle school, she seems determined to try. At the very least going tomorrow and having it not go well will give us ample excuse to pull her out and "home school" her. I just hope that any incident tomorrow won't be too terrible.

"Well, off to Carletta's." I give the direction primarily to Carlisle, although I know that he will ask later why I ever encouraged this idea. The dress maker is only a few blocks away, and before I know it we've pulled up in front of the small shop.

Please review! I respond to all of the signed reviews (and I want to respond, so please sign it :) ) and I love all of them! And they make me update faster! And I love them! (did I already mention that?) so please review :)


	21. The Garage

First- this one is kinda short. It ended where it did so I could post it now, because I'm still unsure of the conversation directly following the cutoff of this chapter. I could have included it, and it probably would have made more sense to do so, but this way I could get the chapter up sooner, so don't hate me if it's short :)

Next- welcome and thank you to the new readers who have reviewed. You know who you are, and I do too, so thank you so much :)

Also, thank you to my new "regulars". It means the world to me, I check my read counts and reviews an unhealthy number of times after I put up a chapter because I love reading and responding :)

(So sign reviews so I can respond!)

Finally- I'm sorry to those alarmed at Esme's errant thought of Alice and Edward, but you know she would have thought it, she did with Rosalie, after all, and she's nothing like Edward :)

Don't worry, she won't hold on to it : )

Chapter 21 Esme

"Okay Alice, let's go pick out some nice things for you to wear to school." I try to sound optimistic, but I'm having a hard time believing that she'll be alright in school. Carletta is a sweet woman, and her son Derrick is in Edward's grade. He seems to be a nice enough boy, and Edward enjoys his company more than most. Maybe knowing about at least one person in her class other than Edward would help.

I'm only guessing at what grade we should put her in. I don't see any reason to put her behind Edward, as it would be better if we can get them in some classes together, and I she already looks years younger than him and would never pass for Emmett and Rosalie's currently assigned age. I hope that we can get her looking a little healthier before the next time we send her to school; it will be hard to keep explaining that this tiny girl is actually in high school at all.

We let ourselves in and Carletta appears soon after. She's a short, slightly round woman in her mid forties with bright red hair. Despite the stereotype, she is very calm and kind, and I'm glad to see that she isn't busy.

"Hello again, Carletta. This is our newest daughter, Alice. She's the one I needed those dresses made for, but as you can see, I guessed a little big on her size. I was wondering if you might be able to take the others in a little bit and maybe we can order a few more?"

"Oh yes, of course Esme. I can see how you would have had trouble; she is a tiny little mite. How old are you, Alice?"

I'm thinking now that we should have discussed this. Alice's eyes meet mine in panic; she has no idea how old she's supposed to be.

"She's almost sixteen, in Edward and Derrick's grade, actually." I hope that I'm making the right decision, Edward seemed more comfortable around her yesterday and he could keep his eyes on her through her thoughts and hopefully head off any major issues. I can see Carletta's assessing gaze, Alice doesn't look fourteen in her current state, but I think I know Carletta well enough to know that she won't press. I can field questions later, I'll just tell the school that she's a bit undernourished from the foster home we took her from, and the first part at least is true. I don't miss Carlisle's questioning expression either, but I think that it would be better if she was at least with someone familiar since she can't have Jasper.

"Well, then, Darling. Let's get you measured and hopefully into some better fitting clothing! Would you come with me for a moment?"

"Yes ma'am." Alice follows her without the slightest hesitation and I'm shocked. I haven't seen her interact normally with anyone, and here she seems completely fine. It's like the cowering little girl from our home doesn't even exist. I suppose that she would have had to learn how to interact with humans in order to be on her own for all of those years, but I had assumed that she had dealt with that by avoiding contact. A person with her style of coping skills seemed like the type to choose seclusion, but I guess living part human would make that difficult. I make a note to ask her about it, maybe school won't be so difficult after all.

I set the other two dresses on the front desk for Carletta to alter for us as well, and Carlisle and I sit down.

"Well, that was easier than I expected," I confess. We speak too quietly to be overheard, partly just in case they come back, and partly because I know that Alice hears more acutely than a human could.

"Yeah, I thought she would have more trouble, but I guess Carletta isn't exactly Rosalie. She's had to interact normally with humans for years before Jasper, so I guess we shouldn't be surprised. She must only be so nervous around us because we're stronger than her, you think? Maybe school will be good for her, to be back in public where she knows that she's in a little more control."

"Maybe. I just hope that everyone all together won't be too much for her. What if someone touches her? What if there are too many people around for her to catch it until she's surprised and it's too late? I don't want her to have to go through that. I just hope she knows what she's doing."

"I'm sure she does, darling. She's not a child and she's been doing life alone long enough to know what she can and can't handle."

"But what if she's just trying to be brave because the others go to school?"

"Then I guess we'll know tomorrow. Even if she's just trying to be brave that doesn't mean that she can't do it. If she decides to do it, she probably will be fine. She knows she can get out of it if she wants. We just have to trust her."

"I know you're right. I just worry. She's so small."

"I know. But she's feisty; she can take care of herself. Besides, she could put just about any sized human in their place; she can take care of herself."

"I know. It's just my job to worry."

"And you do it well. Here they come back. Be happy, my dear; everything will be alright."

"I know." I look up to find Alice returning, Carletta chatting merrily and Alice nodding and agreeing enough to keep her going. I'm proud of her effort.

"So, Alice, now that she has your measurements we can leave these dresses here to be altered, but do you want to pick out some colors and styles that you would like to wear to school?"

Her eyes go wide as if she had never considered the possibility before. Her expression is answer enough, but I can tell that she's hesitant, I'm assuming because of money.

"Alice, it would be our pleasure, please. We really want to do this for you."

Before I can even finish the sentence Carletta has design books and fabrics pulled out and littering the room. If there was any chance Alice was going to argue, it disappears when she sees the vast variety housed in this small shop. She moves slowly to the fabric, touching each sample and taking some along to the next area, holding them up to each other and leaving some of them put together. She then holds her selected samples up to different patterns and cuts, her eyes a million miles away as she puts together the imaginary outfits. She switches fabrics and colors, switches designs and then changes them back.

I don't think she's going to be able to decide in this short amount of time, but I can tell that Carletta is interested. I guess we've found our little Alice's interest. I know that Carletta has been looking for someone to help out around the store, complaining that all of the new styles and fashions are second hand from bigger cities and look ridiculous around here. Maybe if Alice could take some of this home and work on it, it could help both of them. Alice seemed insistent that she find a job, this might be just the thing.

"Carletta, could she maybe take some of these drawings and fabrics home to work with?"

"Of course! And if she has half the eye she looks like she does I'd love to have her here. Alice, you might be interested in designing clothes for me?"

Alice looks a little surprised, but gathers her wits to answer. "Yes, I think so. Could I do it at home?"

"Yeah, of course! You take anything you need home and bring me back a couple ideas for your stuff and anything else you think of and we'll take it from there, alright?"

"Yeah. That sounds good." A small smile is spreading on her face and I can tell that this was a good idea. I didn't even think about trying to find her a job because of how difficult it had been to be around us, but it didn't occur to me that she would have such an easy time around humans. I suppose that Carletta doesn't pose any of the same threats that we do, especially the men of my family. I'm relieved that she can take this back with her, she'll probably be looking to get back to Jasper pretty soon anyway. One more stop to pick up a few school supplies and we'll be headed right back.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

The movement in the room calms down and before I know it it's just Emmett, Edward and I standing in the living room. I was thankful when Esme cut off Emmett's suggestion of wrestling. I have heard that some participate in activities like that for leisure, but I've never stopped to contemplate how that would actually look, so I don't think I would have any idea how to react. The last thing I want is to accidentally maim one of the others and then have to explain to Alice why we can't stay, right when she's starting to get settled in. More to the point, I can't stand the idea of having to see Alice learn that I hurt someone else. I've had about enough of that expression for a lifetime. I would do just about anything to keep that look off of her face.

So, instead of fighting, we are going to… examine hunks of metal. I have even less idea of why this is a pastime, and I'm hoping that they will be able to explain it to me. When the others get up to move I follow, trailing behind a little bit. I don't know what is going to keep our attention for long in the garage, so I'm not exactly racing out there.

We set foot into the large room and Emmett flips the lights on. They come on sequentially, illuminating one after another large shapes covered by burlap. Edward walks in first, pulling the burlap off of dark colored, shiny cars. I have to admit, they do look pretty impressive. I have no idea what to do with them or why I would ever need one, but they look good.

I can only describe the next half an hour as being filled with introductions, because I can't think of a more fitting word for what happened. Edward and Emmett took me to each car, one at a time, and told me the name and owner of the vehicle, as well as an endless stream of numbers and letters that they seemed to feel were important. When Edward realized that I had no idea what they were talking about, he explained some of the acronyms and I was able to be a little more impressed. I have no frame of reference for any of these statistics, but it still seems impressive that slow humans can invent a contraption for themselves that can move them ninety miles in a single hour.

Each car seems to have some similarity to the owner. Emmett's car is giant and burly, like him, Edward's is sleek and dark, sort of understated. I hadn't gotten a glimpse of Carlisle's vehicle before they left, but I imagine it probably matches him too. The next car is sharp, angular and bright and I didn't need them to tell me it is Rosalie's, while Esme's car is small and light colored, it looks like it could blend in just about anywhere, not unlike the woman herself. I almost missed the last vehicle in the garage.

In its own small area in the corner sat was a shiny, black bike that Emmett told me was "Edward's other love" after, I presume, his car. Apparently he went riding occasionally, and the idea piqued my interest more than any of the vehicles. The bike seemed more open and free, closer to running and when my attention lingered longer on that vehicle than any of the others, Edward caught my gaze knowingly. I know that there is no chance I would ever allow Alice, as fragile as she is, on a contraption like that with me, but it seems like a good way to let off some steam myself.

After the initial tour, we went back through the vehicles again, this time with an overview of changes and improvements Rosalie and Emmett had made to them. Apparently the blond has a knack for messing with cars, and I log it away in the ever growing list of oddities surrounding Rosalie. About halfway through the second circuit through the cars, the enigma herself appears as if she's just been out for a walk and normally strolls back into family life every once in a while. She takes over the descriptions of each change to a vehicle from her husband and before we even finish she's underneath one of the cars, messing with something I can't pronounce about the engine that she's been meaning to do.

I glance out the window and am shocked to find the sun already long into the sky. It isn't nearing dusk yet, but it has certainly been a few hours since we entered the garage. Although I am still not sure about this odd pastime of theirs, I'm starting to see how quickly time can pass while absorbed in it. I wander back inside the house, Edward following me, presumably to leave Emmett and Rosalie to themselves in the garage.

Well, what do you think? Next chapter is Edward and Jasper's conversation, as well as probably Carlisle's perspective on their time away. I know that Alice is running a little hot and cold on him, but he's the only of the men she's still very unsure about. Give them time, she'll come around ;)

Question: what is your favorite chapter so far? (If it's the go-fish chapter, I want second favorite too :) )

Can't wait to hear from you all : )


	22. The Altercation

1- my laptop crashed, like byebye motherboard... so end of that machine. Which is why it's so late... it crashed while I was editing this chapter monday, and I just got my stuff back today... to find that it didn't autosave. I'm sorry for any flow-ish issues, I had it how I liked it when it erased, and I don't have time to fix it back to perfectly how it was! Thanks for your patience!

2- Really important disclaimer on the endnote, please take a second to read it.

3- Enjoy :)

Chapter 22 Jasper

"So, what do you think?" Edward asks unnecessarily. I know that he can hear if he wants, the asking is just a courtesy, but I answer out loud to return the gesture.

"It seems like an odd thing to spend so much time on, but it does distract more effectively than I expected."

"Jasper, you know that my mom would literally die before she let anything happen to Alice, right?"

I offer him a small smile. He called my bluff; of course my mind had drifted back to her. I think that they mean well, but it's not in my nature to trust; not anymore, anyway. I ... ill be sure that she is safe only when she's back here with me. If that doesn't happen by the second the sun sets I will be on my way into town to see for myself.

"They'll be back. Esme was pretty determined that they would keep to their schedule, she just wanted to be able to take Alice in to a dress shop she really likes. Even the new dresses that they picked out for Alice are too big, so they were going to have them taken in a little more. She's so small."

"Not sure what to do 'bout that." I don't know if I'm confiding in him, or if I simply say it out loud because I know he'll hear it either way. I guess that there is little enough difference that I don't care. Even in the short time I've spent with her I've already seen her get even smaller. If you had told me that was even physically possible a few days ago, I would have insisted that she would die any smaller. Yet she is, and I don't know if I might not be too far off in my guess. Is she trying to die? The thought had never occurred to me, it being next to impossible for our kind.

"Yeah. This morning was pretty intense." If he catches the last train of thought as he begins speaking, he doesn't betray it. I'm glad; this is something that I need to sort out before I'm ready to discuss it. I can't believe that didn't register as a possibility before. I need to talk to her about that, soon. I can't lose her, and I need to know if she's on the list of people I need to be protecting her from. He pauses to give me a chance to tune back into what he's saying, as if he's been talking the whole time. I am obviously not fooled, but I appreciate the gesture.

"Emmett tried to get her to drink something yesterday and she took half a drink and left the rest on my piano. Other than that, as near as I can tell, she hasn't eaten since yesterday morning. While you guys were… out, Esme made her breakfast yesterday and she mainly pushed it around and threw it away when she wasn't looking. She couldn't have eaten more than a full bite or two. I know she's not all human, but she can't be able to survive long like this, she doesn't have much left to lose."

There it is again. I think that he realized it before I did, and that kills me. How could I have missed this? What if it really is intentional? Would Edward have seen it in her thoughts? Is she good enough at hiding them already? There must be some things that he doesn't hear, and surely he would have told me if she was thinking that way and he heard it… I glance at him to verify, and he nods once in assurance. He would have told me.

"Can she hide things from you?"

"Yes, she probably could. The others have learned ways, having lived with me a while. There are some things she refuses to think about around me, she's actually pretty vigilant about it. I don't think they're like that, though. I don't think she'd do that to you; you're very important to her."

"What is she trying to hide from you, then?"

"The details of what happened to her. I've seen some of it in her flashbacks and panic attacks, as she can't censor those. I try to tune them out, but it would be about like trying to ignore someone shouting right beside you, her mind is less than quiet in those times. I thought about trying to leave when she gets like that, but I don't want to leave when I'm the only one who can hear how she's interpreting things in her impaired state." I'm not a fan of that description of Alice at any point, but I can't argue that she's fully aware when she gets like that.

"So if she isn't doing it to-" My expression makes him think better of finishing that sentence. He rephrases, trying again. "Why do you think she doesn't eat, if not that? Because from her thoughts, I don't think it's that."

"I don't know what she's thinking. She was already tiny when I met her, but I think she's getting worse. She clearly doesn't trust me with whatever is making her do this, and I don't know what to do to help when I don't know why she's doing it. I mean, really, what else causes someone to go against their most basic instincts and not eat?"

"I don't know. I try to listen to what she's thinking about when she does it, but her mind is mostly on methods to distract us from making her eat, she doesn't really think about why she doesn't want to, most of the time. The best I've gotten from her is that she doesn't want to reach a normal weight again, but it must be something more than petty vanity to drive her that hard. This morning there is no way that she would have eaten in front of us, no matter how much trouble it caused if she didn't. She literally could not think of anything worse we would do to her other than all sitting in the kitchen and making her eat in front of us."

"How does it even get to be like that? Why does it bother her so much?"

"I have no idea."

I don't hear her coming, but she must certainly have heard us, because Rosalie comes in from the garage almost as if on cue.

"You two are so dense. Of course she doesn't want to eat in front of us."

Although I'm slightly frustrated at her interruption, I'm too curious to call her on it. I look to Edward, but whatever she's about to say she doesn't seem to have given it away to Edward. I raise an eyebrow in an attempt to maintain civil contact.

"Oh?" I ask, hoping to entice her to explain.

"Of course. Just look at her, she has herself half starved to the size of a child, if she gains weight she'll look older."

She ends abruptly as if that is supposed to lead us in the right direction on our own, but we both just sit as we were, waiting for her to keep talking. The sentence was apparently meant to be finished in our minds, but neither of us has any idea where she was going with that.

"Like an adult" she prods, as if this new information should be enough to tip our understanding.

I'm not enjoying these games but I don't want to snap at her and drive her away before she finishes. I ask Edward to handle his sister before I go off on her.

"Rosalie, I'm sorry, but we really don't understand. You're going to have to spell this out for us."

She heaves an unnecessary sigh that I don't think is entirely drama, based on her emotions. She was only trying to make it seem like she was leading us on, she really didn't want to explain it. I wonder if she once tried something similar.

"When she doesn't eat, she looks like a half starved child. She isn't, she was probably late teens when she was changed, as much as she was changed. If she eats, she probably looks her age." This guess is interesting, because as far as I know, Alice and Rosalie haven't spoken. I don't know how old she should look, or when she was bitten, but Rosalie seems to think that she does. I put that away for later thought. She looks one last time for any chance of recognition between us, but doesn't get it. When she doesn't continue, I realize she's decided to finish the thought in her mind. I look to Edward to explain as an odd parade of expressions and emotions come from him, only slightly close to those Rosalie is experiencing. Whatever she's saying still doesn't make sense to him.

"She doesn't want to eat… because she wants to look like a child, not a woman… so we won't take advantage of her?" Edward tries to interpret, but it's obvious that his version isn't quite what Rosalie was hoping he would get out of it.

"The flashbacks, how old was she?" Rosalie asks me, exasperated.

"I'm not exactly sure. Young, though."

"She's a little girl, she gets abused by some sick bastard, and she learns about sex from him before anyone even talks to her about it. Later, she hears that adult women are actually _supposed_ to engage in sex. Why the hell would she want to be an adult if sex is expected of adults? She doesn't have any positive concept of sex. Why would she trust people with herself as an adult if she wasn't even safe as a child? So she doesn't grow up, doesn't look any older, keeps herself so small and shapeless and wears those terrible, oversized dresses so that she feels safer. She wasn't safe as a child either, but there it was condemned. If she's an adult, if she grows up and looks grown up, she's afraid she attract attention she doesn't want."

I pause again, wondering about her information. I don't even know if what she's saying is true about Alice. Sure, I have my suspicions, but Rosalie seems confident. I'm not even confident, and Alice has never spoken to her.

"How do you know what happened to her?" The question comes out a little harsher than I intended, but I can't find it in me to take back the venom behind it. She speaks of a situation she doesn't know involving a person she doesn't know and her tone is positively cavalier. However, if I am honest with myself, I can feel her emotions and she is anything but nonchalant. She may mask it from her words, but I can feel it. The real reason I'm upset is because somehow her suspicion, after having barely interacted with Alice, makes it all real. If she noticed it in so little time, she is probably right. I may have suspected it, even thought it, but to hear her say it like that, it made it official, made it real, and I wanted to make her take it back.

If she notices my irritation she doesn't bend, because her tone is carefully composed, sounding almost bored. "She practically screams it. She couldn't be more obvious if she tried."

The condescension and lifelessness in her voice are bothering me again and I'm about to snap, even though I can feel the pain behind her words that she's trying to hide. "What are you talking about?"

She rolls her eyes and huffs, as if I've asked her something stupid. I nearly move to smash her face permanently into that expression, but I hold myself back because I need to know what she's about to say, need to convince myself that it isn't true.

"Jasper," she begins in an obnoxiously patronizing voice that makes it nearly impossible not to hit her, "has she ever freaked out when a woman touched her? Did you even see her face when she first saw Emmett? What about the fact that the first day Esme met her, she was able touch her more than you can now? You think normal people starve themselves just for attention? What about the scar on the inside of her arm, have you seen it? Unless that one was yours too, someone else has hurt her. There is no other reason to go for the vein inside her arm with her neck exposed, which you have so graciously shown us." I can't reign in a low growl starting in my chest, although I manage to keep it minimal. "Tell me, Jasper, can you think of another reason to go for that particular artery? Maybe someone was already in the vicinity."

Before she can continue, and I can sense that she has no intention of stopping, Edward cuts her off. "Rose, that's enough. I think you've made your point."

I can't imagine the things he's seeing between our minds, I can feel her emotions and this is much more intense to her than she lets on. I take a deep, unnecessary breath to try to calm down, as Edward engages Rosalie to try to lead her down a different path.

"Why would she care if she eats in front of us, though? She was pretty insistent this morning." Rosalie huffs at the obvious attempt to distract her, and for a moment I don't think there's any way she's going to take the bait, but finally she answers. "Maybe she doesn't want to get caught, maybe she sees it as weakness, and maybe she just doesn't like an audience to do something she doesn't like doing anyway. I mean it isn't hard to come up with reasons she wouldn't like it."

"What do we do, Rose? We can't just let her do this." I wonder if Edward is about to get an earful, but I'm curious too.

She turns her gaze from the wall behind her to Edward's eyes, and I see her entire posture change. She speaks slowly and quietly, but her eyes flash in a way that dares argument. "You have no right." She punctuates every word, her eyes boring into Edward's. He has the decency to look surprised, I didn't quite expect that either. I think about trying to calm the situation, but after my disastrous attempt with Alice I'm more than a little gun shy on that one. I expect to feel anger from her, but that is only the surface emotion. Behind her angry façade, she is in pain. The sharp tone is barely concealing the beginning of a deep, deep pain. I don't even have room to hold on to my own anger toward her, her pain is all consuming. It is almost impossible to not react to the emotion she isn't showing, it's powerful. I clench my fist as hard as I can, trying to focus on her words while still trying to maintain some sort of grip on reality. Nothing good will come from me reflecting her emotions on the rest of the house, and I'd rather her not know that I'm feeling what she's trying so hard to mask.

"You let her do whatever makes her feel some tiny measure of less anxiety. If you try to take this away from her, she will get worse. You're looking at it like the ridiculously dense man that you are. You can't take away her medicine and leave her there bleeding. This is how she copes, don't you dare push her. If she isn't in pain, she won't try to medicate. Make her feel like she's safe enough to have a voice again and she will stop. If she doesn't, then we can talk about what to do."

I don't trust my voice, so I take a second to pull back from her emotions. I look for Emmett, but he's listening in, his emotions as unstable as the rest of ours. Even without my gift, he knows that Rose is upset and he is worried. I focus back on Edward. She must be very good at hiding the tenor of her thoughts. He knows, intellectually, that she is drawing this advice from her own experience and is upset, but I can't sense that he knows the depth of it. Either that or he is able to distance himself enough to keep calm. I take an unnecessary breath and focus my gift on him.

I don't know how well I will be able to handle her emotions if they are directed at me, but I really have to know. "Rosalie, you don't think that she's doing this to try to…" I can't put any of my thoughts into words, they are too raw, and I can't hear them out loud, it makes them too real, too possible.

"You want to know if she's trying to kill herself." I hold my composure only because I was already braced. I want to hit her for saying it so casually. Edward heard what I wanted to ask and heard that she would respond that way, his emotions are carefully held even, he must know that I need this from him, somehow. I can even offer an affirmation, I can't acknowledge that possibility. I just stand there, my gaze locked on her and my focus directly on Edward.

"I don't think so. If she is-"

"Rose, don't. Not now." For the second time in a conversation, he cuts her off. I wonder if he's going to get away with it. "I know how you feel about this, please not now. Especially if it isn't relevant. Please answer what you were asked without your opinion on it. Just this once, please."

I don't know what she was about to say, but I'm shaken by the intensity of Edward's plea. He's been very calm through this whole exchange, but whatever she was about to say, something that she'd expressed before; he was desperate to keep from me. Normally, I'd be furious; I wouldn't rest until I knew. But this time… talking about this… I probably don't want to know if he doesn't think I want to know.

Her eyes flash to him, but when she sees his expression; her own softens the smallest amount.

"I don't think so." She answers, quietly. Some sort of exchange passes between them, but I don't even care. Neither Edward, who hears her thoughts, nor Rosalie, who has been through something like Alice has, thinks that she's trying to hurt herself.

"Thank you, Rosalie," I tell her, sincerely. I haven't thanked someone and meant it in a really long time, but rather or not she's right, she's given us much more to think about than Edward or I could have come up with. She's also given me an alternate explanation than Alice trying… I can't even think it, Alice trying to hurt herself, and I'm relieved to know that there might be another explanation.

She looks at me like I've sprouted antennae. I don't know what I've done to deserve that look, but I'm sure I'm about to find out.

"I'm not doing this for you. You two are sitting in here trying to fix things you know nothing about like the couple of apes you are. Just leave her alone. She'll figure it out."

With that, the conversation seems to be over. She glides out of the room and back toward the garage. I make a mental note not to thank her in the future unless I plan on the conversation finishing, and look back outside; the sun is dropping lower, still no sign of them. I'm trying to be patient, but I've been away from her long enough. I have to see with my own eyes that she's alright.

Okay, this is important.

Rose's advice is NOT REAL. It's her jaded take on Alice in this story. If you have a problem with an eating disorder or know someone who does, you need to get help, it has the highest rate of lethality of any mental illness and it's serious.

Here's why it's written as it is:

Rose is of the opinion that she should have been left to die in cannon. Therefore, her opinion is that if Alice is actually trying to kill herself, they had no right to try and stop her, the opinion Edward stopped her from voicing. The only thing that would convince her that Alice would want to be saved is if she was getting better, thus Rosalie's advice that they leave her alone.

Again, not real advice. Don't just let someone act out and assume they'll be okay, it's better to be safe than sorry.

The end for now! Having the document back, I'll do my best to get back to regular updating.

Still didn't hear favorite chapters from some of you, I'm interested in finding out what you guys like and making sure to keep adding it :)

Thanks for reading, please take a second to review!


	23. Reunion

So, as always, sorry for being late. I do have a disclaimer, however. I don't like posting chapters too close, because that means I don't get to hear your opinion on the first chapter. If you all will collectively promise to still comment on the first chapter, I'll get chapter 24 up very soon... if it doesn't work, I'll probably go back to my crazy staggered whenever I get to write plan :)

So, haven't heard from him in a long while, here's what the Doctor ordered!

Chapter 23

*_*_*_*_Carlisle*_*_*_*_*

It's getting late, so Esme decides that we don't have time to all go into the drug store to buy school supplies, announcing that she'll just run in herself. I glance in the rearview mirror, waiting for Alice to object, but she doesn't even seem to register her absence, absorbed as she is in her designing. I worry about what will happen when she comes up for air and Esme isn't here, but I know that my wife will be quick, and if she wants me to stay here with Alice, I will.

Esme heads into the drug store and I turn up the music, sitting back in my chair as if I could go to sleep. The action rouses Alice, but she shoots me a warning glance and goes back to her current occupation. I can't believe that she's still calm right now, but I'm not going to push it. If not for the gravity of the situation behind it, it might be comical. I'm nervous about being left alone a pint- sized girl.

My thoughts go back to my family. I am still wondering if sticking around this town is the best idea, but I imagine that tomorrow might take that decision out of our hands. We might be moving despite the family vote if school goes as disastrously for Alice as I'm afraid it might. Highschoolers can be cruel, and Alice is already fragile. Maybe a familiar face will be enough to help her make it through, but near as I can tell she isn't all that attached to Edward yet either, and it seems unlikely that his presence alone will be enough; maybe if Jasper could go, but of course he can't.

I can only hope that someday she'll feel as comfortable around the family as Rosalie does now, but I know that came with time, and, if we're being honest with ourselves, Emmett. Then again, maybe she brought her Emmett right along with her when she came. I've never seen a trauma victim so securely attached to another after knowing them for only a few days, but they seem to have… something. Something like when I saw Esme and knew that I would have to change another. Like when Rose was able to resist her newborn thirst to save Emmett. Something unique, immediate, unchanging. I doubt he would acknowledge it, and I'm sure she doesn't know, but they may be more than they assume.

I hope that someday I can consider her my daughter. I imagine this is what it really feels like to have adult children. I feel some responsibility for them still, but I respect them as individuals and know that they are perfectly able to make their own decisions. I wonder if someday I'll walk Alice down the aisle. The ceremony is as much sacred as it is performance in our lifetimes. I picture her tiny hand on my tuxedo clad forearm, leading her slowly to the front of the room like I have Rose, so many times. Hopefully she won't be so thin by then, maybe look a little closer to marriage age.

I've asked all of my family to watch, and I don't think there is any physical problem that's stopping her from eating or digesting nutrients into her bloodstream other than she refuses to eat. Her mannerisms show that she's accustomed to having to hide this behavior from others, and that it isn't something new or recent. I wonder if the trauma she endured is somehow directly related to her eating habits, or if it's a connection she made later. I make a note to question my son later on her thought processes.

Although I haven't been around the house much in an attempt to give them some space, I've been asking around and meeting with cases that appear similar and I've found a few. Two of the three females I found that appear to display similar symptoms have some history of sexual abuse, and I wonder if that is Alice's story as well. I chance another look at her in the rearview mirror and am struck, as I always am, with how truly frail she is. If Jasper hadn't come here with her, I may have put her on a feeding tube already, rather she agreed or not. If she came into the hospital looking as she does right now, I wouldn't think twice about that decision. But with him here, especially with his role in her life, I don't feel right making that decision without his knowledge, maybe even permission. I know that there is no way Alice will agree, but if this doesn't get better soon, she may leave us no choice.

I bite back a sigh of resignation as I picture Alice's tiny frame hooked up to a feeding machine nearly the size of her entire body. I wonder if she's still strong enough to get it off in her current state. Being more than human, I imagine she is. The picture shifts to her strapped down with a feeding tube attached to her face, which is more than a little discouraging. I pull my thoughts away; we'll deal with that if it comes.

I wonder how Edward and Emmett will react to the idea of her going to school with them. I am almost certain of Rose's response, she's made it no secret that she considers Alice a little too fragile for her own good, and I know that she'll raise hell when she finds out. My sons, however, I'm not so sure about. Emmett loves looking after her, and he may even be excited at the opportunity. I'm so proud of how he's handling this whole thing.

When I saw her decompensate the other day at the threat of violence, I was concerned about what we may be getting ourselves into. Although I know that Rosalie will ever admit this, she's avoiding Alice to avoid her own past, and made me worried for Emmett. He wasn't here through the beginning, those first few years of newborn strength and temper along with the yawning expanse of eternity to relive a nightmare. No, he doesn't know it, but he missed the hardest part. It's probably just as well though, Esme, Edward and I had a hard enough time with her even when we hadn't been particularly close, it would have killed Emmett.

So years later, seeing Alice respond to the fight in a way that clearly show experience with violence, I wondered how Emmett was going to take it. My second son may look like a giant, but he has a huge heart. I was concerned that Alice would judge him for his size and never get near him after I had to have him restrain Jasper. The other thing that worried me was the familiarity of it all. He may have missed those first years, but he's seen Rose at her worst, he's seen her truly fall apart when she doesn't have the emotional energy left to be angry anymore. Then here comes Alice and we start over again. I'm so proud of my son for making an effort with her, even as I'm sure she couldn't help but to have been judging him for his size.

Edward I'm not so sure about. They've seemed to be forming a strange sort of bond, probably formed primarily on information he is privy to that she had no intention of making available. At first, I saw what Esme wanted to see, that maybe they could have been together. Now, however, as I've seen them interact more, I think that she's wrong. I think they're close, yes. I think they'll probably get closer the longer she stays, but I don't think that it will ever be like that. Jasper is so very different from her, but in the way that we're all a bit different than the one to whom we belong. I think Alice was born as energetic as Emmett and broken as thoroughly as Rose. The combination has yielded something like Edward's reserved thoughtfulness. Their gifts will link them, but I don't think they could have ever been more than siblings.

So when it comes to school, I have no idea what his opinion will be, and I imagine he will be one of the only ones not to offer it. Sometimes, I think that Edward experiences such a constant stream of conversation from everyone else that that he keeps his opinions to himself, if only to relish the silence it creates.

I imagine his instinct will be to speak out to protect her, but Emmett will have said most of what is on his mind. He'll probably just keep his cool and monitor the internal side of the conversation. Her chances at school are probably much better with Edward there to help intercept, so I make a mental note to talk to the principle about it.

My wonderful wife, true to her word, manages to be quick. She hurries out of the store carrying only four bags, much less than I expected, given that she is getting Alice ready for school. She turns and I see a black and silver backpack slung over one shoulder. That's more like it, I suppose. She throws all of the bags in the trunk and returns to her seat next to me. Alice has now expanded her project to take up the entire back seat. I'm not complaining, I take her hand and pull out.

The way home is just as quiet as the way there, but the atmosphere is more comfortable. Alice is busily shifting through fabric samples and patterns. I'm surprised that she's so taken with all of the different combinations, but so far her creations have been fairly impressive. I can't wait to see some of them when they are made; I have the feeling that before long we may all be dressed by Alice. Although fashion, fabric and coordination mean little to me, I'm glad to see Alice find something she loves. I know that she will have a much easier time adjusting to life with us if she has a project to work on, something else to do and focus on, so I'm excited for the possibilities. I imagine Rose might even be able to pull herself together long enough to be temporarily interested in Alice's designs. I hope so. A few pieces of fabric start to slide off the seat as I turn into our driveway, but Alice catches all of them. When she realizes where we are, she begins to gather them all up, stacking them neatly in some order and tucking them a few at a time into the pages and pages of patterns she has. By the time the car is turned off, she has a fairly well organized pile.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

First excursion out with the family minus Jasper: survived. It really wasn't too bad, although I'm making sure to remember that I am almost 16. I'm going to have to ask when I'm turning 16; it seems like the logical next question, I'm only lucky that I dodged the bullet this time. I probably don't look 16 to them, I hope not, at least. I make a great effort not to. When I was first changed, I think I probably could have passed for at least 18, except for the fact that I was coming out of an asylum and looked more like a corpse than I girl.

Carletta seems nice enough, and her offer sounds like a dream come true. Although I've never really had the chance to design, somehow I know that I could do it, and I really want to. I already have three or four dresses put together, and I can't wait to see how they look. I resist the urge to try and look. I never know what else I might see if I start looking, and some things I just don't want to know.

Carlisle and Esme retrieve the groceries and whatever Esme got from the other store, and I carry in my new designing materials.

Before I can take my third step into the house Jasper is right there. I nearly run into him, even though I'm only moving at a slow walk.

He offers to hold my designs for me while I get out of my coat, but I feel oddly protective of them, so I hold on to them as I try to also wrestle out of my heavy outerwear. I can tell that Jasper would rather I put aside my stubbornness and just give it to him for a second, but it isn't happening, and I'm not even sure why.

"Welcome home" he offers, hanging up my jacket.

"Thank you. We had a very productive trip." I know that Esme is already gushing about it in the front room, so he's probably heard most of it already. It's just as well, because I'm feeling a little worn out from being up and about for the last few hours. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of the evening laying low before school tomorrow.

I think that Esme may have left that part out of her story. I figure out that Edward is in the living room when I hear his shocked expression.

"School? She's going to school with us? Tomorrow? Isn't that too soon?"

Jasper freezes. You'd think he was the one who could see the future. I wish I could see as well as I used to, but I don't want to look, I'd rather go into tomorrow nursing the hope that I might make it through fine.

"School?" he repeats, looking for verification from me.

"Yes. They all go to school, and I should too." He hasn't moved yet, so I continue while I have the chance. "Besides, I met one of the teachers today and now she and some of the others know that I'm here. It will only cause more trouble if I try to avoid going. It's normal, and I need to act normal to not draw attention to the rest."

"So we're going to school tomorrow?" I know that I should correct him, but I'm really hoping someone else does, maybe someone who actually understands why he can't come. When no one else does, I respond.

"No, Jasper… we're not going… I'm going with them. I thought you wouldn't want to go, and you don't have to, because they didn't see you…"

I don't want to upset him, but I can't think of a reason he'd want to go if he didn't have to, and more to the point I know that he still hunts humans. I can't imagine sitting through a probably boring lecture with a room full of steaks.

When he finally speaks, I couldn't be more surprised. "You're sure about this, Alice?"

"Yes. This is what I want. I never got to do school… before… and humans have learned so much since then. I want to go learn, and it will look better if I do."

This starts up another conversation in the previously silent dining room. I don't listen, because I don't really care. He nods, just slightly, and I'm so relieved. I know that I don't have to ask permission, or anything of the sort, but I'm glad that he won't fight me on this; it's going to be hard enough as it is. I set down my new design things on the small end table and step closer to him. Feeling brave from waking up with him this morning, I carefully put my hand on his chest. I close my eyes for just a second, waiting, out of habit, for something bad to happen. When it doesn't, I look up to see his eyes. My moment of regaining composure doesn't register on his face, although I know he knew what was going on. I can tell that he doesn't want me to do this, but for some reason he isn't objecting.

For the first time, I really get what he's trying to do for me. Other times I've known that he's trying to protect me, but the result has been so disastrous or smothering that I haven't really understood. Now, as he fights every instinct he's been taught to keep me in his sight, I understand. He doesn't want to scare me or hurt me or control me. He wants to keep me safe, but more than that, he wants the best for me. In my series of crises since I've met him, I haven't been able to really see that before, but I see it now. For some reason that I can't understand, I matter to Jasper much more than he's willing to let on. He doesn't just want me safe, he wants me happy.

Moving slowly, and half expecting another panic attack, I let my hand slide down to his side, slowly. He doesn't know what I'm doing, but he doesn't stop me. I can see that his expression is guarded. I don't know if he's trying to keep his thoughts or his reaction out of his eyes, but I don't have time to figure it out. Nothing out of the ordinary yet, I put one arm slowly around him, and then the second. He doesn't move, not yet, giving me time to adjust. We must look very strange, I'm hugging him as he just stands there, but after giving me ample chance to object, he slowly moves to hug me back. I don't move. He doesn't move. It isn't like hugging him out on the lawn a few days ago; it isn't coming out of desperation to make sure he's alright. It's just a gesture of… affection, I suppose, as it's supposed to be. Although I'm still slightly on edge, this feels right. I hold him tighter, just slightly, and after a second he does the same. I keep my mind studiously empty, allowing myself to simply experience the moment.

I can feel my cheek against his chest, the same wonderful way I'd woken up this morning. He's colder right now; I guess I probably warmed his skin last night. I can feel my chest against his abs. My emotions war, it feels wonderful to be this close to him, but my mind screams that I shouldn't allow this, that I don't want this, that we're too close. I can't respond with logic, because the cry is far from logic- based. Even then, I don't know why I want him to be close, almost as much as I'm not sure why my mind is so insistent that I shouldn't be. In a second my mind flashes back to something, but I can't place it. My back is against the wall and I can't move- I'm pinned. The tiny, nagging voice screams and the dull warning sound erupts into deafening sirens.

Before I can react, Jasper moves almost faster than I can watch. He steps away, his hands on my shoulders to ensure that I don't come with him. He releases my shoulders and takes another step, out of my reach, and backs against the couch, putting his arms behind him, probably in an attempt to disarm me. I look around frantically. I'm not against the wall; I'm in open entryway of the living room. The house is silent again, but no one else is in the room, just he and I. It wasn't a flashback, I don't think, because I can't place having ever been there before.

I look up to him again; his expression is blank, almost stoic. Realization hits me almost as fast as panic only a moment earlier, he moved before I responded. He felt that. He moved because I panicked, and he probably thought that it was him.

I can't find words, but my expression pleads with him to come back to me. I don't know if I can handle him close, but I know that I can't stand him so far away. I need him with me. I can feel despair replacing the fading panic, he will never let me close to him again, and it's my fault. The weight of that realization feels like a physical burden on my shoulders and I sway, feeling my knees give under the pressure. I feel myself falling, as if in slow motion, but I don't make a move to catch myself.

I don't see him move, but he doesn't let me hit the ground. He sets me on the ground and tries to move away again, but I'm holding him too, and he pauses in pulling away, probably trying not to hurt me.

"Alice, you have to let go of me." He speaks softly, but the clear authority in his voice is probably from his past life. "I don't want to hurt you and you're holding on too tight. I have to move, you're not going to be okay with me right here."

He's whispering close to my ear, but it occurs to me that the others, still silent, can hear too. I don't know if I can find my voice, but I hold on tighter.

"Alice," his voice is resigned, but I don't give him the chance to finish.

I speak nearly too quietly to hear myself, but I know that he hears. "I want you here. Don't leave me."

I can feel another flashback coming, but when he tries to pull away I hold on tighter. This is Jasper; he wouldn't hurt me. I chant in my mind, holding on to him, physically and mentally, and I push it away. He wouldn't hurt me. He's got me. He wants the best for me.

The last thought even manages to draw a smile, and he pulls away only enough to see my face. He must have felt that too, and I'm glad that he did. His movement puts us face to face, and for a second, I think that he's going to kiss me. Oddly enough, I can't think of a reason why I would mind that.

I feel him tense, just the slightest bit, and he moves away. I'm almost disappointed, but Emmett walks in from the garage with a giant grin on his face and a faraway look in his eyes. Jasper almost kissed me, I think. I almost let him. I might even want him to try again. I'm wildly confused, but I can't deny that it sounds wonderful. Maybe this is what this feels like, to like someone… like that. I can't bring myself to contemplate the other "L" word, not yet, but I can't deny that I might feel something different toward Jasper, and it isn't just that I've known him longer.

Emmett stops right before he would have needed to step over us to get out the front door, which appears to be where he is headed.

"Wait, you're home, short stuff? What are you doing on the floor? Did I miss something?"

I can't help but laugh. I don't know where he has been, but his expression of confusion is just too funny to hold in. Jasper joins me, and it's as if the rest of the house lets out a collectively held breath and joins in. It's so funny that I'm almost not mad at him for interrupting. Even though I'm not sure how I would have handled it, I'm still the tiniest bit mad. Emmett owes me, I decide.

I've been hearing a lot of unexpected chapters as your favorites so far, I'm having a great time hearing them!

These in between chapters are a little light, more intensity is coming, but these are the ones that remind you that they still have good times :)

Please review! I love and respond to all of them :)


	24. School's Eve

Liberty Debate Page 5 of 5

FF_2299878_ N. Ryan

So, we're going to try this "posting faster" thing over the break, so make sure you read the chapters in between first.

Also, hopefully your reviews will keep me motivated. I'm stuck alone in an office Monday afternoon and all day Tuesday and Wednesday with plenty of time. If you guys will write, I will be motivated to do so as well and maybe even get another chapter or two out by the end of the week, deal?

So, here's the night before... school. Not quite like Christmas, but hope everyone had a merry one :)

**Chapter 24**

***_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_***

I agreed to let her go to school. I mean, what else could I do? She's right, she isn't a child, and I feel oddly relieved at the fact that she isn't related, probably more than I have any right. My mind screams at me to keep her with me, but she isn't mine. If she feels the need to go to school, of course she should. Something in Rose's scolding seems to have stuck; I can't treat her like I know what is best for her anymore. I don't have any idea what it's like to be her, and I can't keep trying to make decisions for her like I do.

So then she gets excited and hugs me... and I couldn't have been more surprised when she manages without a panic attack. For one, blissful moment, we're alright, almost normal. Then, the inevitable happens. I feel the spike of panic and I put space between us for her to recover.

Her eyes are wild, but I've seen that before. She's looking around, trying to remember where she is. A deep, crushing despair replaces the panic and she collapses. This is only occasional behavior, but I'm still not shocked. I catch her and set her down carefully, moving as fast as I can to put her down so I can replace the distance between us. She doesn't let go of me. This, this is different. I can feel the anxiety growing in her again, but she just holds on tighter. I'm in awe; this is her letting me in. She's using me as some sort of anchor to reality, and the thought is sobering.

Her emotions are all over the place, as usual, but each time they oscillate out, they come back, centered, before they go off again. I can't put it together, why is this different? I ask Edward in my mind, knowing that he's paying attention. I hear him whisper lower than Alice could hear, and his answer makes me pull back enough to see her, it can't be true, can it? Her face is starting to calm, it's never been over this quickly. Maybe Edward could be right. His words echo in my mind. "It's you, Jasper. She's going to be okay because she's with you."

I stare at her, the smallest smile of triumph playing on the corner of her lips. In that moment, she has achieved something no one else I've encountered has been able to. For the first time in my existence, this girl has made herself irreplaceable to me. I don't know if it just happened, or if this moment has made me finally realize it, but I don't want to live without this tiny little trouble magnet in my arms. I don't care if she needs me as an anchor, a sibling, a friend, or someday, something more. I'll be as close or as distant as she needs me to be, but one will be much easier than the other. She has the strangest expression on her face, as if she can somehow hear the assurance I could never voice.

The trance is broken by Emmett, and I'm thankful he interrupts. I think I may have kissed her otherwise, and the day would have spiraled into disaster. I can feel the intensity mirrored back in her emotions, my own projecting stronger through the loop of escalating excitement. Before she can hide it, I catch her irritated glance at Emmett and I can't help but wonder if she knew what I would have done and wanted it too. I can't dwell on those thoughts though, I am more than willing to get carried away with them and I can't bear to be wrong. I have to know for sure that she feels it too before I allow myself these thoughts.

I help her to her feet and notice that her dress does indeed fit her better. I'm not sure I could fit both of my arms side by side into the bodice of the dress. It's fitted, but not tight on her. As I reach for her arm to steady her on her feet, I see the curious pile of fabric and paper still clutched to her side. I remembered seeing it earlier, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

"Alice, what is this?" I ask, tapping her other hand lightly. I note, only a little smugly, that she doesn't even flinch.

At this, her beaming smile returns. "My new dresses!" She announces as if that is clearly what they are. I look again. She's small, granted, but I have no idea how the thirty some tiny squares in her hand qualify as dresses. Mind you I could think of plenty of ways they could make up her entire wardrobe, but I can't allow myself those thoughts. As if I'm not motivated enough to mind myself, I see Edward shoot me a warning glance over Alice's shoulder. I glare back pointedly, if he doesn't want to hear, he shouldn't listen.

"Doll, I'm not sure even you could fit into that..." I offer, hoping this obvious information will prompt her to explain.

"No, silly. I'm designing these dresses. I pick out which fabric will go in which place in the pattern and then she can make them. And I might even have a job designing more dresses; maybe someday I can even make my own patterns! I met the lady at the dress store today and she said I might even be able to help her there. Wouldn't that be just wonderful?"

I'm stunned because I've never heard her say so many words all at once, except maybe to get out of trouble. Apparently, this dress making has struck a chord with Alice, because she looks more animated than I've ever seen her.

Before I can even ask her what she wants to do next, she carries her new materials into the family room and Emmett declares a game night. They play games, she designs, I watch, and we're all perfectly content with the arrangement. The tone is light, and I find myself curiously able to relax. Rosalie is nowhere in sight, which of course makes this markedly less curious. The rest of the family's emotions are pleasant and laid back, I can only hope that tomorrow will be this laid back.

As night sets in fully, Alice moves from the floor up to the couch, sitting somewhat by me. I know better than to take these things for granted from her and I wink at her in an attempt to break the tension. I receive the anticipated smile, but her eyes look heavy and I can tell that she's having trouble staying awake. I think about suggesting that she go up to bed, as school tomorrow is probably going to be difficult, but I decide not to say anything, her decision and all.

The games continue, mindfully quieter, around us. I can't help but to watch with rapt attention as she falls asleep, fighting it at first, and then finally sinking down into the couch. Throughout this process she has been slowly inching closer to me, and now that she is finally asleep, she gently leans into me and before I know it she's laying with her head in my lap. For someone versed in knowing the next two moves of any opponent, I didn't see that coming. I wonder if she will be upset if she wakes like this, but it seems like she will be more upset if she wakes when I try to move her, so it doesn't take too much convincing to determine that I'll be spending tonight down here, with her.

The room is quieter, and I look up to find only Edward still in the room. I really am losing my senses when it comes to her. He's sitting on the opposite couch, his fingers ghosting over a chess board, but his attention on us.

"So, school, huh?" His voice sounds as dubious as I feel, but I know that in the end, it isn't really my call.

"I guess so. It's what she wants." I try to shrug it off, but I know that he hears my concern in my thoughts, if not in my spoken words.

He doesn't respond apart from a noncommittal sound.

"She's going with you. Will it be terrible?" I'm a little afraid to hear the answer. I don't think she really knows what she's getting into, and I'm afraid that it's going to hurt her more than help anyone else.

"Maybe," he weighs his words carefully. "They're children, they don't understand difference. Their world is so small. Tragedy is a social rejection and triumph is weekend plans. Some of it is deeper, but even that is usually expressed in shallow outbursts and tantrums. She'll be a novelty until they figure out what she can't do, and then who knows."

"What will they tell the school about her?"

"Some of the truth, or at least what we know of the truth. Some crafted around our best guess and fitted to our supposed... situation. They'll tell them that she's been hurt, and we're not sure yet to what extent. They'll tell them that she came to us from a group home, which is close to the stories they tell them about us, that she was neglected there and underfed, possibly abused." Something about this sentence makes me cringe inside. I hate hearing that word in connection to the tiny woman in my lap, hate the connotation of it. Most of all, I hate that it's probably true. Edward gives me a minute to come back to the conversation before he continues.

"I'm sure they'll mention that she doesn't do well with others touching her and then make up some story about how she needs to be in as many classes as possible with me. Carlisle will tell them what they need to know without giving them too much of Alice's story, it's hers to tell, after all."

"Of course." I move cautiously to run my fingers through her hair, remembering only a few days ago when I'd been caught, before Alice and I had settled on our strange sort of arrangement. "Tell me about your school." It sounds like small talk, but I'm already getting nervous sending her off by herself, I can't help but want to know the details of the situation to create a contingency plan, I can't just turn off that part of my mind.

"It's a medium sized public school for this size town, about six hundred in the high school. She'll draw a little more attention because she's both new and one of us. People don't understand how Esme and Carlisle handle so many teenagers, but they've started to accept the idea, more or less. They'll wonder because she looks so young, and then they'll wonder why we won't let them get too close to her. I'm sure rumors will be started, each more incredible than the last, but nothing that she can't handle, hopefully we'll be able to head most of them off. Rose is mad about the whole thing, of course, and she'll be snotty to Alice to her face, but she'd defend her at any cost if it came to that. And Emmett... well, you know him. He'll milk the whole 'new baby sister' bit to all heights. He's never had a little sister before, and he's very excited. He can't wait to scare the fear of God into the first boy that tries to talk to her. And the second. And all of the rest of them. We'll watch out for her, Jasper. I promise."

"I don't understand how she ever made it for so long alone. She just seems so fragile."

"Around us, yes, but I saw from Esme how confident she was in town around the humans, I think she may be alright."

"I hope you're right."

Alice has curled into a smaller circle in the time we've been talking, and I gingerly lift her off the couch, moving to recline more and pulling her to my chest. She's curled up so small that she doesn't even reach my lap, so I put first one and then the other arm around her to secure her. Edward shoots me a knowing glance and stands, leaving the untouched board game and heads upstairs.

Her skin feels feverish to me, but I can't tell if it's her normal unreasonable body temperature or if something is actually wrong. I move my hand to the other side of her face and find it much cooler, only to realize that is the side that had been in my lap. I can hear her breathing, slow and rhythmic. She probably wouldn't be sleeping so well with a fever, so I decide she's probably fine. For the moment, everything is peaceful.

I lean back and start to lose track of time. The night couldn't ever be long enough with her close.

***_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_***

The room falls into some sort of lull, games and mild rivalry melting into a calm hum around us. I can tell that the designs are coming along, but I'm not really paying attention to them. I mean, who can really limit their focus to one thing when there is so much else around to look at? Truthfully, it's probably because he's right there, on the other side of the couch, just looking at me like he's afraid I may have disappeared in the interim. I can relate; I can't really let him out of sight without wondering if this is all an elaborate dream. I wouldn't put it past myself, given how long I've seen him and not had the guts to find him, but even I couldn't have imagined this all going so smoothly. If this is a dream, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, so I really hope I'm awake.

The hum grows gradually softer as my eyes get heavier. I think, at some point, I drop my arm over the side of the couch, and then I feel the fabric fall out of my hand onto the floor, I'll have to pick that up tomorrow. Before I know it, I'm lying down, most of my body on a single couch cushion. I know, somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm probably subconsciously moving closer to Jasper. I don't really mind; I just hope it isn't too obvious to the rest of the room.

In my last conscious thoughts I realize that the side of my face feels cold, and decide that I must have finally made my way over to Jasper. I'm too tired to be embarrassed by the possibility of others still in the room, so I let myself drift off to sleep playing with images of school tomorrow. I hope that he will know to make sure I wake up on time; I wouldn't want to be late for my first day.

As a deep darkness falls, time seems to lose meaning. I misplace minutes or hours, maybe days for all I know, and then I'm awake. I don't know how long I've been here and I don't remember when I arrived. The room is small and dark, and it looks to be a classroom of sorts. There is a large chalk board in the front of the room and only a few chairs other than the one I'm sitting in. At first, I assume I'm alone in the room, but when I glance around I find Jasper also in my company. He has his head down on the desk next to me, only his familiar blond hair and part of a worn out navy button down identifying him. I open my mouth to speak to him, but the silence holds stronger. The whole thing is curious, but I don't question it. I put my head down on the desk too, wondering what he's up to. Before I can even get myself comfortable, the door opens again. Another blond walks in, but even when I look right at him, I can't discern any of his facial features. I can tell that he is definitely male from his build and the way he carries himself, but the harder I look at his face, the less I can make out. I get an eerie impression that if I could see his eyes, they would be red, but I have no foundation for that assumption. I don't remember what my biological father looked like, and I wonder if that's who I'm seeing.

I turn to Jasper for reassurance, but he doesn't move. I reach for him, but when I touch him a powerful flashback hits, but instead of Charles, the faceless man is in this one. And it isn't just a flashback, when I touch Jasper the man really does grab me, but when I let go I am back in my desk. I can't touch Jasper, but I need his assurance now more than ever. I reach for him again, trying to close my eyes against the shift in the room, but I can still see. When I close my eyes, however, I can still feel Jasper. I shake him, trying to get him to wake and help me. I know somewhere in my mind that he can't sleep and I don't know why he's ignoring me. Finally I shove him as hard as I can, and by some miracle I catch him off guard and push him off the desk. With the contact broken, I can focus on the present again. I glance over at the faceless man and his posture is confident, even arrogant. I look back at Jasper and gasp, blinking, hoping that I'm seeing wrong. His eyes are open, but they aren't gold or even red, they're cloudy white. And there's blood on the floor, but it isn't from his mouth, it's from his chest. He isn't _mostly_ dead or _un_dead, he is dead. Jasper is human, and he's dead. I hear a harsh, grating sound and realize that it's coming from the figure behind me. He's laughing. And I've just realized I'm also screaming.

**** these are links on Twilighted, if you don't have an account I'm sure you can find them elsewhere.

The second to last line is from an author's note on Dark Alleys and other Love Stories by Incognito Burrito whom I love, this story will make you laugh, even at the most seemingly inappropriate times.

Warning: That line in this story refers to Alice, she is not and will not appear in the story. So if that's a deal breaker, sorry. I will give you another.

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My alternate, if you don't buy no Alice, is a great Jalice AH fic, Tags by luckyj52587. It hasn't been updated super recently, but it's really underappreciated, and maybe if it got a little love she might be persuaded. So you should go love it :)

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5

Liberty Debate


	25. Morning of

A few (long) notes (you are free to skip):

1. Sorry for the delay, I've had 24 waiting to be validated since the day after Christmas on Twilighted, and I don't post a new chapter here until the old one gets validated there, I've been checking my email obsessively for the verification, but still don't have it, which brings us to the second:

2. For the first time since chapter three (before we got the story accepted to Twilighted), I'm posting here without posting there. I can't hold this chapter in anymore! I'll catch them up as soon as my validation beta gets back from vacation :)

3. I'd like to take a moment to reflect and ramble, you can start the chapter now if you want. I can't believe we're on chapter 25. I read the a/n on chapter one saying I didn't have enough for a second chapter written yet and it seems impossible. Right now, this story document is over 120,000 words, only almost 100,000 of them published so far. I can't believe how far we've come in nine months! In celebration I'm not only breaking my rules but also giving you a long chapter, for me :) Love you all! Please review!

I reply to my signed reviews, but I wanted to thank beforedusk7, because you review unsigned and I can't email you to thank you :) So thank you :)

The Jasper's pov came really easy in this chapter… the poor guy was ready to talk about Alice acting all strange, I guess :) Thanks for reading, enjoy!

Chapter 25*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

I'm startled from my reverie as she starts shaking, slightly, in her sleep. I reach for a blanket before I feel her fuzzy emotions start to ramp up. I remember what happened last time I tried to wake her and I'm appropriately wary, so I call her name and gently shift from under her trying to get her to wake her while touching her as little as possible. Her emotions keep building, but I can't tell their real intensity in her sleep. After what seems like forever, I know that I can't handle this anymore. I call her name a few more times, getting progressively louder. The last straw breaks when she starts screaming.

I shake her awake. She falls off the couch, still screaming. I don't catch her, afraid to do more psychological damage than the physical damage I might spare. She is now, finally, fully awake. I see her eyes open and she slowly gets back onto the couch. She's looking into my eyes, and I can see that something is still wrong. The room is silent, the house is silent, and it feels like the only sound for miles is her thundering heart.

She reaches out and touches my arm, tentatively, seeming to gage her own reaction. I try not to be hurt by the action, she's just testing her nerves right after she woke up screaming. When she doesn't flinch away, she throws herself into my lap, facing me, sitting with her knees on either side of my waist. I'm a bit thrown by the action and I don't think she has any idea exactly how… compromising her position really is. I don't dare move her, and I certainly don't trust myself to move. With her this close to me, I can't promise myself that I can control my reactions to her, and I can't let myself hurt her. I hold my breath to keep her intoxicating scent from overwhelming me, but it does nothing to mask the fire of her skin against my body. She's tempting my resolve, but it's a test I can't afford to fail.

She buries her head in the crook of my neck and although I'm still shocked that she's this close, she seems to be looking for comfort. Under strict orders, I move only my right arm to put around her in what I hope will be construed as consolation, despite the stiffness of my motions. My hand freezes midair as I feel her face against the skin of my neck. I cannot afford to slip up. Her cheek grazes the side of my face and she presses her temple to the still, dead veins in my neck.

Before I can react, she sits up again, pushing my hand, still in the air behind her back, away. I force it back to my side before it can get me in trouble. Her eyes are still wrong; she's frantic, trying to piece something together. Whatever she's trying to figure out, she had better do so soon, because I don't know how much more of this I can take. I set my jaw, I will not move, however impossible she is making this. I don't even have time to finish the thought before she's moved again, her hand to the left side of my chest, and then she replaces her hand with her face, her ear pressed to my chest. If I didn't know better, I would say she's listening for a heartbeat, which, of course, she knows I don't have.

Seemingly pacified, she throws her arms around me in a hug. This woman is trying to kill me. She's sitting here, beautiful and unkempt; straddling my hips… and now she wants a hug, more contact. I bit back a growl, my jaw tightening impossibly more, and release only my right arm again to stiffly return the embrace. Is she trying to make me lose it? Does she really not understand what she's doing to me?

I try to distance my mind from the present. I, Jasper Whitlock, am a soldier. I don't lose control. Nothing on this planet can shake my resolve. When I decide, nothing can change my mind. This girl is going to be the death of me. She sighs into my embrace, her warm breath fanning across the back of my neck. None of my mental berating helps in this moment, it's like she hit the reset and I'm a newborn again, I can't keep myself in check around her. She's so close I can feel the heat of her skin easily through our clothes, I can measure the exact fractions of millimeters between us, and I can feel the chill forming on her skin in reaction to my cold skin.

I can't handle this.

I am literally seconds, maybe fractions of seconds, from pulling back and tangling my hand into that messy, gorgeous black hair and crushing her tiny body to me, kissing her senseless, pulling her closer and not letting her go until she begs for me to take her…

"Alice." The voice startles both of us and in that second I get a grip on myself again. I look up to find… Edward, of course. I shoot him a grateful look over her head. He's just rescued me from the mistake of a lifetime… or several lifetimes. Alice, probably still not quite aware of how she's been sitting, turns to face him. She's still on my lap, and moving around doesn't really do much to help me, but at least she's not facing me anymore.

"Are you alright? I heard you screaming."

When she glances down to the floor he meets my eyes, his question obvious. I wouldn't risk answering out loud with Alice so close, but I don't have to.

I'm fine now.

"It was just a bad dream. It was stupid, really, nothing to worry about." She looks embarrassed and I give him a pointed look to fix it.

"It was just a bad dream. It was stupid, really, nothing to worry about." She looks embarrassed and I give him a pointed look to fix it.

"No, Alice, I understand. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay and you were alright." He refrains from looking at me this time and I'm thankful that he doesn't make it any more obvious that he was more concerned about her wellbeing from me than he was from her nightmare.

He goes back upstairs with one last sympathetic glance toward me. I'll have to ask him about that one later, for now I need to attend to Alice.

"That one felt different." I am careful with my comments. I know that her other nightmares have felt much more intense than that one and I don't know why. I also know that she's very protective of the contents of her dreams usually, but I'm wondering if this different kind she'd be willing to share. More than anything I'm trying to figure out what led her to wake up and nearly jump me, although I'm not sure if I want to know to watch out for it or to watch for it.

"It was," is her simple answer and I wonder if that's her cue to let it go. I am deciding if I should press it further when she continues on her own. "It was so strange, and a lot less clear than the others. The only thing I remember is that you…"

She trails off and it's making me more than a little nervous. I can't think of any terrible role I could have played in her dream that would make her react like that when she awoke, but I'm remembering back to her hesitant touch when she first woke back and wondering if I really want to know. I've asked now, though, and if she wants to tell me I need to know.

She takes a deep breath and continues. "You were there, and I thought everything was going to be okay." She takes another deep, steadying breath and I wonder if I should tell her she doesn't need to repeat it if she doesn't want to, but I don't want her to think I don't want to hear about it. "Then when I tried, I couldn't touch you; it was like with the others, I couldn't touch you without freaking out.

"But I was scared. So I did it anyway, and finally they got so bad that I pushed you off the chair you were sitting on, because you had your head down and I needed you to look at me, to help me, but you wouldn't." She stifles a small sob and I am becoming less sure that I even want to know. I'm angry at my dream self for not helping and feel a little irrationally responsible.

"When I pushed you over I could see again, and you were… you were dead." She finishes, shakily.

I think I'm missing something. I am dead. She knows that. Why was she checking my pulse when she woke up? This doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me.

When she sees my confusion, she lets out a small huff and clarifies. "You were human, and you were dead."

That makes more sense, I suppose. Was she checking to make sure I hadn't found my human genes while she was asleep? I guess so. Next time she's unsure what sort of creature I am, I should advise her to ask. She just about learned _exactly_ what kind of monster I am with that little stunt of hers.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was still holding. "So you were just checking?"

She looks a little hurt, so I try to reign in the slight edge of sarcasm coming from the close call she doesn't know we just had.

"I'm sorry that you didn't sleep well, Alice. Would you like to go up to your room? It's still early, probably too early to get up and get ready for school."

Her little eyes light up like Christmas, and I have no idea what has her so tuned up.

"I can get ready for school! I have a new dress… and I can do my hair with all of the nice things that Esme got for me… it's never too early to get ready for school!" With this, she bounces out of my lap with energy she seems to have obtained from thin air. I watch in rapt wonder as she neatly dances up the stairs. What a strange half hour I've had. I'm wondering if I should tell her that it's only four thirty in the morning, but she doesn't seem to be asking, so I guess I'll let her do her own thing.

A few minutes after she disappears I hear the bath start upstairs. I think I'm still staring at the ceiling in wonder, because when Edward comes back downstairs he chuckles.

"Something else, isn't she?"

"Yes. I think you can safely say that."

His smile drops to a serious expression, and I have little doubt what this is going to be about. "Jasper, I'm impressed you held it together as long as you did. I'm sorry I didn't realize what was going on sooner. The rest of us couldn't have done better."

I can tell that he's trying to make me feel better, but it isn't working. None of the rest of them would have had to do better, she trusts me, and I was a mere second from ruining that.

"Surely you know that it isn't that simple. Past or no past, she's your mate, of course it's in your nature to want her, especially when she, intentionally or not, just about throws herself at you like that."

I don't think I heard a single word of that sentence past "mate". Honestly, I'd heard of the concept, but I always gave it about as much weight as the idea that vampires could survive off of animal blood, nearly none. And yet, ironically, here I am, hearing it from one who does just that. Could it be possible? Peter had been insistent, but I'd always written that off to Charlotte's relentless romanticism. I just figured she'd finally gotten to him. Now that he says that, however, I've never felt two so securely bonded as the couples in the family. The bonds are different, of course, but both Carlisle and Esme and Emmett and Rosalie are bonded so intensely it seems as though they would cease to exist without the other. There is not the slightest hint of unfaithfulness; as if they're absolutely certain they have what they want.

I know that Alice is important to me. I also know that she's different, different from the others, especially Maria. I think Edward is trying to give me my thoughts, because he continues as if he doesn't hear that I didn't even believe in this concept a mere minute ago.

"I know you don't think you see it, or maybe you don't want to, but you couldn't leave her now if you wanted to. I may not have experienced it for myself, but I know it when I see it. It'll look a little different because of her experiences, but it'll come."

What will come? What does 'mate' really imply? It sounds like she's going to wake up one evening, announce that she's 'better' and jump in my bed. If this fairy tale 'mate' thing is really true, what would it look like in the eyes of little, broken Alice? At least I can accept that my intentions toward her earlier were unacceptable, that's how the military works. Either something happens or it doesn't, and it should or it shouldn't. There is no room for emotional justifications, it doesn't matter how you feel or who that person is to you, you do the right thing, you follow orders. This 'mate' thing, it only blurs lines. I had no right to consider what I did, and it happened. I had no right to act on those thoughts, and I didn't. Guilty on one count, innocent on the other, sentencing to follow. There is no best you could do or it's to be expected. If it's not acceptable behavior, it is not to be expected, because it isn't permitted. And when it comes to Alice, the rules are all the more important. With her, the rules are there to make sure I keep her safe, to ensure that I don't become another elusive 'him' in her flashbacks.

I'm angry with him, I realize. She isn't ready for this, not with me and not with anyone. I think the past few days have proven that more than anything. How can he tell me that it's destined or inevitable? She isn't even ready to interact with our kind normally, can't he see that telling me this is the last thing she needs right now?

"I understand. It may not look like that right now, but someday. She'll be okay in the long run, as long as she has you. And you'll be okay too, just stick around long enough to find out. Don't beat yourself up."

If he wasn't the only assurance that Alice has a chance to be alright going to school by herself today, I think I would be sorely tempted to beat the hell out of him for still talking about this. We aren't magical mates or whatever he's decided. End of story. Leave it alone.

I give him a pointed glare, knowing that he heard my opinion on the matter, and he smirks smugly, heading back upstairs. It's a good thing, too, because if he stayed much longer I wasn't going to hold myself back. My self control is spent for the morning, and he'd heal, more or less, by the time they had to go to school.

I calm myself down by listening to the soft sounds upstairs as Alice gets ready for school. Other than having to reign in my imagination when I hear the water splash when she gets out of the tub, a mental image which inspired many emotions not described by 'calm', the rest of the early morning passes quickly and generally without incident.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

I glance at the mirror for the millionth time in the last hour. You'd think this wouldn't be that big of a deal for me, having a half century of life to put it in perspective, but even as a child I wasn't allowed much time with my peers, so I'd always wondered if I would be accepted. I straightened the small clip in my hair, also for the millionth time, and twirled, watching my dress move with me. Surely I won't stick out too much, will I?

I sit down at the small chair I've pulled into the bathroom. I heard the others getting ready, or at least going through the charade of getting ready, so it must be almost time to go. Am I ready for this? Before I can second guess myself, I whisper his name.

When he appears in the doorway, he lets out a low whistle. I can't help but look at him, a bit alarmed, is something wrong? Am I wearing something wrong? But when my eyes fall on him, he's smiling.

"You look lovely, Darlin'. They'd be fools not to like you. I'm just glad I'm sending you with Edward to keep all the boys from talking to you, otherwise you might replace me before you come home."

That sentence makes me both nervous and warm inside. I don't want attention from boys, in fact I've worked hard to avoid it, but the fact that Jasper is something to me, that I am to him, something important enough to qualify as needing to be 'replaced', that makes me confident. I can do this.

My eyes go back to my reflection, and this time Jasper is a few steps behind me, watching me through the mirror. I can do this. The sooner I go, the sooner I can come back to him. I'll be fine, because I have him to come back to. I glance again at the small amount of makeup I've applied. I hope I've gotten it on right; it was my attempt to look a little bit closer to my assigned age. I'm still tiny and young looking, but at least now I could pass for high school. I have never wanted to intentionally make myself look older, but I know that it will save a lot of explaining if I do. I look up at Jasper one last time in the mirror. His small smile is happy, but something else I can't place, something like proud of me. I would do anything to make him keep looking at me like that. I turn and throw myself into his embrace.

"It's gonna be okay today, isn't it?" I ask as much for his confirmation as my own. If he thinks I can do it, I know I can.

"It's gonna be great, little miss," he assures me, and I know that if he says it, it's true.

I turn and head toward the stairs, taking his hand in mine. I still wish he could come, but I know that he'll be here for me when I get home, so it'll be okay. When we reach the bottom of the stairs the others are wandering around the main floor. They continue about their business as Jasper and I head to the kitchen where Esme has my school supplies. I can't help but think this may be a trap, luring me into the kitchen, but she's so nice that I can't find it in myself to be angry with her about it.

"Good morning, pet! How did you sleep? You've been up for a while, are you feeling ready for school? I've made you… something… one moment, where did that cookbook go?" She moves things around in the kitchen; finally unearthing a bright red book, open to a page about halfway through. "Breakfast quiche! They have a handy section just for breakfast foods which is wonderful because, really, you don't want me to have to try to decide what food belongs in which meal after all these years, it would be simply disastrous, of course. You might be eating pie for breakfast and eggs for dinner, how dreadful! But, luckily, I found this handy book and now I should be able to cook for you like a pro! Maybe not quite like I used to, but I think it'll come back."

She hasn't stopped moving at any point in this explanation and by the end of it, I find myself face to face with a sort of odd looking concoction of cheese and eggs. I put on my best smile, but there is not a very good chance I'm going to be able to keep something this rich down. Although it smells good, I won't have any confidence left for school if I cave now, before I even get there. I put on my best plastered smile and thank her, nervous that she's about to sit down across from me and watch me eat, or not eat, as the case may be. Almost immediately she does sit down, right in front of me, but she pulls out a file and starts going through it, clearly trying to give me the pretense of space.

I glance at Jasper, who has sat down on the next chair and is looking at me expectantly. I begin pulling apart the steaming mountain of breakfast on my plate, hoping that it will look passable that I'm just letting it cool down before I eat it. When Jasper doesn't look away, I take a small bite to pacify him and then continue to push everything around my plate. I glance at the clock, wondering how long I'm going to have to keep this up before it's time to go to school and I can play it off.

The small bite I took does actually taste pretty good, so I chance another small bite. Hopefully this won't last too much longer now. Esme is still busy about her work, or at least pretending to be, but Jasper isn't pretending to have another interest in the room.

"So, Esme, when do they usually leave for school?" I ask, trying to decipher how much longer this will last.

"Well, you know them, really whenever they want, they can sweet talk their way out of just about anything, but we usually push them out of the house in about fifteen minutes, and you'll have some paperwork to finalize at the school, so maybe in about ten today. Just a bit longer, dear. How are you feeling?"

She's doing exactly what I hoped she would, talking to me, and I don't have to be here much longer, today really will be better than I thought. "I think it's going to be fun. I know it'll be a little hard at first, but I think I can do it."

"Just wonderful. I hope your first day goes just perfectly. We talked to the principal this morning and got you into all of Edward's classes except two, so it shouldn't be too bad. One of the others you'll have advanced home economics with Rosalie, and I'm afraid that you'll have your math class by yourself. Edward's math is at the same time as Rose's home economics, and the boys don't have to take it so I wanted you to be with her. Also, he's in advanced math, and that seems like one of the subjects it'll be hardest to just jump into if you didn't have complete schooling before. I think Carletta's son Derrick may be in that class though, so maybe you two will become friends. I just know that you'll do great, Alice."

"Thank you, Esme. I hope I will too."

"Usually the kids take Emmett's tank of a truck to school, but I think today they'll take two cars, just in case any of you want to come home for any reason."

This translates very obviously to, 'in case you need to come home because you freak out', but I don't mind. I'm glad that I'll have an escape route if necessary.

I glance over at Jasper to find him looking pointedly between myself and my plate and so I stuff another tiny bite into my mouth. It wouldn't hurt to have a little more in my system than usual in order to stay alert and keep the others from touching me, so I guess it won't hurt too much. I imagine I won't be eating anything for lunch in a crowded cafeteria, so I guess I can afford it now. I'm a little afraid that school will implement a routine that they expect will put me up to eating three meals a day, but if they think that will be enough to coerce me they have another think coming.

I continue pushing my food around, even taking another bite or two, until the others pile into the kitchen. Rosalie is looking, well, incredible, of course. Her dress comes only to the top of her knee, a little more risqué than I would ever dare for school, but I can see that at least Emmett approves. I imagine the rest are used to it. I hope they don't expect me to fall into line with her, because I doubt I will be okay with wearing something like that any time in the near future.

Emmett and Edward are dressed casually, a button down shirt with light colored slacks. I wonder if Rosalie is going to be the exception or the rule of how girls at school dress, and I suddenly feel very self conscious. I hope that she's the exception, because I don't have time to go back up and change and I'm certainly not wearing anything like that. Surely Esme wouldn't have let me get anything too terribly out of style, right? I hope so. With one final small bite of Esme's breakfast, I pick up my plate, dumping it in the trash and washing the dish. I turned back to Jasper, noting the time on the clock behind him, and hugged him briefly goodbye. Rosalie and Emmett were already in the garage, so I assume that Edward, who is waiting at the door, is taking me.

With one last wave to Esme and Jasper, I follow him out to a little car. He opens the passenger door for me and I almost forget to thank him in my effort to avoid touching him or getting too close to his arm. When I'm inside I remember my manners and he walks around to the other side to let himself in.

**So, whatcha think? Please review, it makes my day! And we're like 10 away from one every hundred hits… not doing great on that goal :) So review! Cause I'll love it!


	26. An Hour of Firsts

So, I've been having some trouble with motivation, but I realized that I'll have less trouble getting chapter 28 written if I give you guys chapter 26 and hear what you think about it! So, please let me know! It makes this story better, I promise! It also makes it exist, I am not that self motivated. I love hearing from everyone who reviews and I know I wouldn't still be working on this any other way. Thank you all for reading, and more for reviewing!

Chapter 26

Alice

Once we are settled in the car and pulling on the road, he starts a conversation. "So Alice, first day of school, how do you feel?"

"I'm fine." I glance over, hoping to find him pacified, but I can see that he's going to press if I don't keep talking. I continue before he gets the chance to ask. "I could look to see how it would go, but I'm afraid of what I'd find. So I'm just going to wing it."

"So you're consigned to the uncertainty of the rest of us mere mortals?" I find this statement ironic, as he is nothing of the kind and even more ironic because he can hear that I'm thinking he isn't mortal, even more proof. I'm too nervous to vocalize all of what he's just heard anyway, so I keep my response simple.

"Something like that." His tone is light and I can tell he's trying to distract me, which I'm thankful for because it's working. However, I also want to know what I'm walking into, and he's the one to ask. "So what does my record say about me? I don't know anything, so you should run me through it all."

"Don't worry, it's a bit of a hike to school, we have time. You're almost sixteen; I think they put your birthday in February, the day before Valentines, so the thirteenth. We won't be able to get away with this usually, but in order to get us in the same classes; they were told that you're my half sister, which explains why we're 'adopting' you so much later than the rest of us. Your official story is that you were in a group home after being shuffled around in foster homes for a while, but your record didn't tell us much. In the group home you weren't being well taken care of, and finally the school you were attending got concerned and called child services and you went into a hospital for malnutrition. When they figured out we were related, a family attorney contacted us and asked if Carlisle and Esme would be willing to take you in, which of course they were, so you ended up here. The teachers have been told this story and that you don't do well being touched and they've been advised to keep an eye out for you. In most of your classes I'll be there too and they'll rearrange the seating chart to keep us together. Hopefully, between the two of us, we can keep away unwanted friendliness and you'll do fine."

"By our mom or dad?" I ask, for clarification. I don't expect anyone to ask into it, but just in case.

"What?" Apparently not even my mind gave context to that, and I'm secretly (or not so secretly, as I'm sitting next to a mind reader) pleased that I managed to catch him off guard. I repeat the whole question in my mind, tired already at the thought of speaking out loud all day. I better take advantage of not having to while I can.

Half siblings by our mom or our dad?

"Well, we didn't tell them that…"

When is your birthday, and how old are you? Because it couldn't be the same mom if we're too close together.

"Mine is in the summer, but of the year before, so I'm almost seventeen, so it doesn't matter." I respond with a noncommittal sound, that's fine by me.

"Let's say same dad, it seems more plausible." I nod, looking out the window. We look nothing alike, so as long as that's accounted for it doesn't matter to me. Another thought occurs to me.

Had we met one another before I came to live with you?

"I don't know. I would say no, because it would be unlikely if we had different moms, but they're also letting us stay together based on this detail, so we better say yes. Maybe we went to one of the same foster homes in the beginning when we were first in the system?" I nod again, that sounds good. I'm just glad he's telling me now before we tell different stories.

Did we know our dad?

"Probably not, spares us details about him."

Am I going to have to be able to touch you?

"I didn't really think about that. Plausibly, probably yes? You can get away without with Emmett for sure, and even Rose if you don't want to, but you maybe should make an effort with me, if you can. If it doesn't work we can explain that too, especially if all of that stuff happened to you after we met as kids, but it would be better for their peace of mind about putting us together. It would also make it easier for me to help you dodge others, but again, that's totally dependent on what you can do."

I consider the idea. It probably wouldn't work, but I could try. If I really want to make this work, I probably will need Edward to help me, and as of now I can't even hold an entire conversation with him out loud. I managed to get into the car alone with him without freaking out, and we're even having a half decent conversation, even if the second half is silent, but am I able to touch him? I think I can get away with keeping the others away, but if I miss something it'd be pretty handy to have Edward as a backup plan, and there wouldn't be much he could do without drawing a scene if he couldn't touch me.

I draw in a long, thoughtful breath. The very least I can do is try. I put one hand into the handle on the side of the car door, looking for something solid to hold on to. His arm is resting on the center console between us, and I've been involuntarily shying away from it the whole drive so far. Before I can change my mind, I grab his forearm, holding on for dear life as the memories take me.

The tighter I hold on, the worse they get. I recognize the faceless man from my dream last night in some of them, and in some I'm pinned against the wall again, the same thing I saw yesterday with Jasper. I hear the splashing again, and I fight it. Not that one, he can't see that one. My mind reels on, flipping through images almost too fast for me to follow. I'm being held down to the ground and my arm grasping his forearm, trying uselessly to push him off of me, but he's too strong, I can't do it. He keeps getting closer, telling me sweet lies about what I want and that he's doing me a favor. I think I'm crying, but I can't tell in what place. Before I can move the scenes flip on, changing again too fast to look through. I see Jasper fighting, and worse, I see him with that woman. He's so violent with her, and I quickly replace her in my visions. He throws me and pins me down, now it's him I'm fighting against. The roulette continues and I can't let go. Finally, with a sharp break, I pull back to reality. I blink once, twice, gathering my surroundings. We're in Edward's car. We were going to school. Right now we're pulled over to the side of the road; his eyes are wide as he looks at me. He's moved as far away from me as he can get while still staying in the front seat of the car.

"That was… intense. You alright?"

I catalogue my mental health briefly and decide that I am as alright as I ever am. I nod.

"Yikes." He turns back in his seat and pulls back onto the road. "Let's not do that anymore. If you want to keep trying, you're going to have to be a little more gradual about it. That was awful."

He's telling me. He had to watch them as a movie; I had to be there, both the first time and now.

"Of course you're right. I'm sorry, I know this is hard for you."

I hadn't meant that to elicit an apology, but I nod my acceptance anyway. I glance back at his arm, there is still trip left and I'm determined to at least try. He sends me a warning look which I nod my acknowledgment of and then ignore. I decide to take his advice and try smaller this time. I reach out a single finger and rest it on his upper arm. Even the most basic of sensations brings me back to where I've been. I feel the most simple things, the texture of his marble skin, the fine hairs, the solid, unyielding muscle beneath… there is no blood flowing through this arm and the rock solid makeup of each ligament and bone are covered by liquid steel muscle, he is stronger than me, and he could hurt me if he wanted to. I yank my hand back, pleased that I'd been able to pull back before I lost control.

This is Edward; he doesn't want to hurt me. Jasper trusts me with him, so I should be able to trust him too, right? Jasper knows about people, and he would know if Edward wanted to hurt me, and there is no way he'd let me go with someone who was trying to hurt me. This will be okay, even Jasper would say it will be, and he's not even here.

I reach back again, my finger coming to rest only slightly on his bicep. He is stronger than I am, and faster, and he can read my mind, but he could have hurt me if he wanted to and he didn't. He doesn't want to hurt me. With constant focus, I can see that we're improving. As soon as I let my mind wander, my reflexes kick back in, but I may be able to do this for short lengths of time. By the time I could lay my hand on his arm for a few seconds without flashbacks, we're at the school.

If I thought that there were people around in other towns I've stayed in, it's nothing compared to this. There are people everywhere; the small building is overflowing with them. I can't imagine all of the people currently outside somehow fitting inside all at once. Before I can ponder too far into the situation, Edward is at my door, opening it for me.

"We've got to go finalize your classes at the office, its right this way. Stay close." With that he begins our trek across the parking lot and then into the building. He walks half a step ahead of me and I keep in his immediate wake to avoid the mass of people, a lot of them staring at me. I suppose I'm the school novelty for the day, and hiding in my supposed brother's shadow is only going to make me all the more interesting to them. I stand up a little straighter and try to look as if I would be fine without him there, which is a total lie. They'll find out soon enough when I don't catch someone trying to touch me.

After what seems like an ocean of curious faces, we arrive inside the building, taking the first left into a tiny office. Maybe because it's the middle of the year or just because the day is trying to be merciful to me, but the office is almost empty of other students. There is a young, kind looking woman behind the desk and another older woman behind her, sitting toward the back wall in another desk. There are three doors on the back wall marked by title, not by name: Principal, Vice Principal and Dean of Corrections. I hope I will never see the inside of those rooms, they look small and dark.

While I've been surveying the situation, Edward has walked up to the front desk and is talking to the young woman there. I quickly close the few steps between us, then, realizing how insecure I look, take a step away from him and smile at the lady behind the counter.

She smiles back, a bright and authentic look. "Why hello, dear. Look at your beautiful eyes!" I find myself smiling more genuinely back at her. I may be three times her age, but her enthusiasm is contagious.

"This is a list of your classes for the day and your brother here is going to show you around, I'm sure, so that means you're all set! Have a great first day of school."

"Thank you, ma'am." I respond. She looks impossibly happier. She must be one of those few people in the world who really enjoys her job.

Edward leads me back out into the hallway and mercifully; it's still not too crowded. I watch the other people carefully, but none of them seems inclined to say anything to me, probably because of Edward's general presence, combined with the look he is giving them. I don't think I'd approach him if he was looking at _me_ like that.

We walk to the end of the hallway and turn, walking down another long hallway. At the end, the hall opens up into a large inside courtyard, where I spot Emmett and Rosalie lounging at a stone picnic table that is probably about as old as they are. The irony is not lost on me that the creatures on the table are more authentically ancient stone than the table itself. Edward leads us there and I sit, a bit nervously, in the seat across from Rosalie. Edward is a carefully maintained distance away on my right and Emmett the same distance on my left, but Rosalie just sits there, unmoved. I haven't really seen her since the first day we got here, and since then it's been made abundantly clear that she isn't my greatest fan. I glance at my schedule to see that my class with her is second to last, followed only by my class alone, simply wonderful.

I put it back away in my new bag Esme found for me yesterday and try my best to tune into the conversation around me. Even as she speaks, Rosalie doesn't pull her disdainful expression away from me, so I don't dare open my mouth. I'm going to have to find something else to do at school to distract myself. I open up my black bag to survey what Esme has packed for me, hoping to find a distraction. I find a few new pencils and a sharpener, a few pens, a few large notebooks, and behind those was another notebook, but it lookes a little different. I pulled it a few inches above the other books and flipped through the first pages. The first half appears to be lined graph paper, while the rest is blank paper. I pull it out the rest of the way and find the front of the book. Originally it said, 'Design Book' in scripted letters, but above the printed letters 'Alice's' has been added in what I assume to be Esme's handwriting.

I look back up to the others, feeling better. I have people here for me, I'll be ok. When I tune back to reality, Edward is standing beside me, waiting. I'm not sure for what, and I wish that I was the mind reader at the moment.

"We should get to our first class before the first bell rings, after that everyone will be in the hallways. It'll be easier to get there without running into everyone now."

I nod, securing everything in my bag and throwing it over my shoulder. I try to ignore the telltale sway of my vision as I stand, I have been here before, albeit not as consistently as I've been since I met Jasper, but I can handle this. I push it away. Although I'm tempted to walk directly behind him, as it provides the best hiding spot, I'm not trying to make myself any more of a spectacle than I already am, so I settle for walking beside, but a small bit behind him, to keep him in sight. I distract my thoughts by pretending that I'm not fairly certain that he already said this once before when I wasn't paying attention. I shoot him a petulant look, he shouldn't talk to me when he hears that I'm not listening, it makes me look dumb. I know that it's a silly thing to expect of normal people, but since Edward is far from normal I feel justified expecting it from him.

I sneak a glance over to find him smirking. The man is smirking. If I could touch him, I'd smack him. The smirk widens and I look away before I can embarrass myself further, only to find myself face to chest with someone way bigger than I am and much closer than I allow. I thought Edward was supposed to be intercepting people, where was he on this one? I put on the breaks, but momentum is cruel, and before I can regain my balance, I run into the person in front of me, hitting my face hard and then falling backward. I can feel it almost in slow motion, but I know that Edward had taken a step to the side to stop me from jumping back into him, and now there are others around and he can't move fast enough to catch me in front of all of these witnesses. I close my eyes right before I hit the ground, my head bouncing off the hard, tile floor. I hear the ceramic crack under the force of the blow and hope Edward has the good sense to crush that more evenly before people notice.

The pain is blinding, I can't see anything, but it's so vaguely familiar that I'm stunned, looking for another time in my life I've felt this bright, searing pain. I can't remember the occasion; I can only remember the pain. I remember that I was afraid, afraid because someone had done this to me on purpose. This is no accident, someone is waiting on the other side of this ocean of pain, waiting to throw me back in if I manage to claw my way through it to safety. There is no safety, he'll always find me.

*_*_*_*_Edward*_*_*_*_*

It all happens so quickly, and yet painfully slow. I have calculated it twice before she hits; there is no way that I can catch her, at least in a way that looks remotely mortal. I could catch her, sure, but I'd give us all away. I have to let her fall, trusting that she really is as resilient as she pretends to be. Jasper is going to kill me.

Although my eyes had been on her for that second, I'd still been paying attention to our surroundings. It'd have been much easier if I could walk in front of her, but I'd learned from her mind that she was trying to look independent by walking next to me, and who was I to try to take that little bit of assertiveness from her? Coach Jackson was walking down the hallway ahead of us, sure, and I had accounted for that, leaving plenty of room between us. If he had stopped, even if she didn't see, I could have easily enough rerouted her, and we would have been fine, so I didn't worry about it. What I didn't account for was a little more complex. The student on his side of the hallway was having trouble opening her locker, trying to pull back and lost her balance, causing Coach Jackson to jump back nearly midstride to dodge her, at exactly the same time as Alice was taking another step forward. She turned around soon enough to hit her face, rather than the back of her head, and now she's on the ground. Her head is bleeding, but her short, thick hair catches it as the wound closes itself far too quickly.

We're drawing attention, so I quickly smooth out the tile with my foot, there's no way they're not going to send her in to be checked out if they see how hard she hit, but she can't go in, she's not human, so I have to dodge. Unfortunately, the easiest way would have been to just scoop her up and take her out for a bit of a breather, but I'm not sure what will happen if I pick her up. Something about the injury feels familiar to her, but she has the impression that when it happened before it was intentional, and she's scared. Now is not the best time to be testing out contact, I'm guessing, so I don't know how to get her out of here.

I bend down next to her so she can hear me. "Alice, I need you to look at me, can you do that?"

Coach Jackson has regained his composure and is now pushing through the quickly formed circle to get to her, realizing that she is actually injured. I can't let him get to her; he won't listen when I tell him that he can't touch her.

"Alice, come on, I need you to focus. Open your eyes; we can't do this right now." I'm right in her face, and I can feel realization begin to dawn in her consciousness, she's coming to, but I can't let Coach Jackson throw her back under. He's only a few steps away now, pushing kids out of the way.

"Alice, it's Edward, I won't hurt you, but I need to pick you up before others decide to come, we need to get you out of here. Do you understand?"

Now he's only a second away, I need her to respond now, and I feel that she hears what I'm saying. I hear her agree in her mind, and before she even has a chance to formulate an outward response, I pick her up, touching skin as little as possible. Although the wound has closed, the blood in her hair is still wet and the last thing I need is to get blood on my shirt. Apart from it driving me nuts all day, it would cause them to search Alice for the wound that would be long healed, raising more than a few questions. I support her head with my arm under her neck, careful to avoid the blood. She's tiny, way too light, but I don't have time to consider it right now because Coach Jackson has made it into the circle and is reaching for her.

"Coach, I'm sorry, you can't do that." I'm trying to keep my voice calm and subtly keep her out of the coach's reach at the same time. I doubt I manage subtle, but I do keep him away. His eyes darken with suspicion, and I can hear in his mind that he doesn't trust my intentions with her.

"Can't do what, Cullen?" He's in no mood for listening. He didn't realize that she was hurt this badly and knows that he'll be in serious trouble if he doesn't handle this right, and normal procedure is that he takes her to the nurse.

"You can't touch her. She's okay, I'm just going to take her to the office to relax for a minute and then she'll be alright."

Of course it's my luck that she runs into the man who most dislikes me, probably the only teacher in the school who feels that way. He's suspicious, but if I can just get her away, I know she'll be fine.

His eyes darken impossibly more, imagining the implication of my request that he not touch her. "What exactly are you saying, Cullen?"

"Coach, I'm not insinuating anything, she's my sister and she's just fainted, it would be better if no one else was close to her right now until she can regain her bearings. Can I please take her to the office for a minute to recover?"

Contented for the moment that I don't mean anything untoward toward Alice or to insinuate anything untoward about him, he nods once. I can tell he doesn't like it, but he can't argue against the wellbeing of such a tiny, vulnerable girl. I wonder again at Alice's magnificent cover, this _must_ be one of the reasons she stays so small.

With the first crisis averted, he walks in front of me to the office, no doubt making sure that's where I'm taking her, but conveniently parting the crowd for us. I am finally able to afford her a moment to make sure she's alright. I catch the end of a flashback, or vision, or specter of her imagination. It involves Coach Jackson, so I'm suspecting the last. I'm glad that I was able to talk him out of coming close; because I'm sure it could have been much worse. She's pretty present at the moment, but she keeps her eyes closed so as not to draw any more attention to herself.

Finally, after garnering what seems like the entire school's attention, we arrive back at the office. The kind woman at the front desk, Jeanette, I think, takes in the whole situation with a shocked expression. I'm thankful this time that Coach Jackson doesn't trust me, because his explanation shields me from questioning as I try to calm Alice down. I know that Esme warned the school officials not to touch her, so I imagine that Coach missed the memo and is about to be filled in. I take her to the chairs in the corner of the small office, out of sight of as many of the eyes in the room as I can manage.

I set her down, sitting up, moving to put enough space between us again to make her comfortable. Her head isn't bleeding anymore, but it remains in her short hair. I doubt any of the humans would notice at a glance because of the dark color, but I don't know if I'll be able to handle it all day, so I'll make sure she washes it out.

"How you doing, Alice? Do you want to go home, or you think you'll be alright?"

I can hear that she isn't really alright, but she puts on a brave tone and tells me she's fine.

I lower my voice for a second, "I know you know I can hear you, but right now you need to at least gesture outwardly so they don't see we're talking without you saying anything, okay?" then, a little louder, "Are you sure? No one would be angry with you if you went home and tried again tomorrow."

She shakes her head, she wants to stay.

"Okay, well, I'll walk you to the bathroom and then we'll get on to class, alright? We're not too late and it'll be fine."

She isn't sure why I'm walking her to the bathroom, but she probably wasn't coherent enough to realize she was bleeding earlier. She stands on her own, looking fairly sturdy. I don't move to touch her.

"Thank you for your concern, but I think she's going to be alright. I'm going to walk her back now; she doesn't want to go home."

The office still looks a little concerned, and I'm sure Carlisle will be called to verify my decision, but for now they let us go. She seems to be doing fine now, her steps don't waiver and she's walking at a normal pace, or at least it seems that way. For the moment she's fallen into step directly behind me, presumably to block her from any other foot traffic out to get her. We arrive at the restrooms and she gives me another questioning look.

"You have blood in your hair."

She looks horrified and quickly ducks in. Although she doesn't look nearly as made up as Rose, I think she spent a while on her hair this morning, and she's anxious to get it right again. I have to admit, she does look a bit older today than she has other days. The clothes that fit her and her effort in doing her hair, and even a small amount of makeup, she could probably pass for high school for the first time since I'd met her. She remerges quickly, all of her hair wet and sticking out stylishly, probably to make it look more intentional. It is far from traditional, but it suits her. She tells me in her mind that she's ready, and I hand her back her bag that I'd forgotten I was carrying.

I hope that the worst of the day is behind us, but this morning might only be the omen. When we arrive at science I take a deep breath, ready to be assaulted with all of my classmates' reaction to her at once. I push open the door, making sure Alice is still behind me.

Well, there you have it! The internet and my creative mind have been taking turns flaking out on me, so I'm sorry it's so late, but here you are, the first bit of Alice's first day of school!

Hope you enjoyed it, and please take a second to review! I love hearing from you guys and I promise to respond!

Question of the chapter: what is your favorite POV in this story so far? It can be either a specific scene or a general person you like hearing from :) Just wondering :)


	27. Defense

Well, I guess Thursday technically ended an hour ago here, but here is the promised Thursday update anyway, the next installment of school! I promise next chapter will end the school day, okay?

Thanks for reading, and for the new favorites and new readers, especially for the new reviewers. It makes my day! Also, last chapter had twice the visitors of any other chapter I've posted, so thank you for that too!

**Chapter 27**

Edward

The teacher, Mrs. Anderson, glares at the door out of habit, her reproving expression reserved for those coming in late, but it immediately softens when she catches sight of Alice's tiny form behind me. Most of the room hasn't even registered her presence- hidden, as she is, behind me.

"I'm sorry we're late, ma'am. We had some difficulties this morning. This is my sister, Alice, today is her first day."

I'm proud of her, when I step to the side she flinches, but doesn't move to stay behind me.

"Hi Alice, nice to meet you. Edward, would you please show her to her seat and we'll continue?" Her voice is professional and to the point, but not unfriendly. I'm glad that she decided earlier in the year to move Jennifer from the seat in front of me, seeing that she wouldn't pay attention to anything but me. Unfortunately that puts me behind Alice; something I know she isn't going to like. The seats are assigned, and I don't want to make a scene by insisting to Mrs. Anderson we switch. We're not facing the class and so I feel safe enough to whisper as we shuffle slowly toward the back of the room.

"Alice, the seat in back is mine; she wants you in the one in front of me. Is that okay? I could get it changed, if you need me to."

I hear her trying to convince herself that it's fine, it's just me, and I promise myself that I'll talk to the teacher before tomorrow and get this fixed. She bravely sits down in her expected seat and I carefully take my seat behind her. Jasper isn't going to believe this.

I take out paper to take down the notes on the board and Alice moves to get the required supplies from her backpack as well. It doesn't escape me that every time she turns even remotely in my direction she shoots a glance toward me to make sure I haven't moved. It's a needed reminder that although she's making progress, she still has a long way to go.

Having quickly copied down something like the notes on the board, I now have more time to test my classmate's reaction to Alice. The teacher has taken a break from writing to lecture on what she already has written down, giving the rest of the class' minds time to wander back to the tiny girl in front of me.

One particularly obnoxious football player in the front catches my attention. He's a grade ahead of us, but he failed chemistry last year, so he's here again. He was still sizing up Alice in his mind's eye, even though it has been a few minutes since we walked in. At first he assumed she was my girlfriend, coming in late to class with me on her first day. Hearing me say sister, he now considers her available. I'm starting to see why it may be handy for Alice to dress and look younger than she is, if he'd seen her yesterday he may have been arrested for thoughts like that by any observer. Now that she looks older… Rose's words came back to me, attention she doesn't want; she was right on at least one count.

I try to tune his mind out before I got out of my seat and pummel him without explanation. One of the other guys in the second row is thinking about her, but more with curiosity than anything else. He's wondering why she wasn't with us before if she's my sister, where she's been or with whom. I search my mind for his name, having never had occasion to pay attention. When I don't find it, I search the minds of those around him and hear the answer- Ian. I didn't know this about him previously, but he has apparently been through the foster care system too. He's wondering if that's where she came from. His memories were less than pleasant of his experiences, and he feels bad for her. I think he may try to talk to her later, but I'm sure he means no harm. As long as he doesn't freak her out she might benefit from some friends other than us.

The brunette girl in the back corner opposite me is staring openly at Alice and I tune in to her thoughts, Megan, I think. She's still staring because of Alice's size. She's never seen anyone so small before other than a child and she's wondering if she's been neglected. Her father works with Carlisle at the hospital and she's seen children come in severely malnourished. She's comparing notes, coming up with easy similarities. I see her survey the dark circles under her eyes, which I hadn't noticed were so prominent until looking through her mind. I know Alice had another nightmare last night, but I didn't really catch it other than in her explanation to Jasper. Her normal dreams are pretty hazy, but this one was more so than most. The girl eyes Alice's tiny wrists, noting how easily the veins are visible, ending her remote examination on her tiny shoulders, slumped over. She's determined to make friends with Alice, if only to make sure she's alright. Although I'm a little put off by her assumption that we don't feed her, Megan seems like the kind of friend Alice may need. I decide not to discourage her attempts.

Near the middle of the room is Jennifer, whose old seat Alice now occupies. She had gotten behind on her notes when I walked in and has just finished catching up, giving her time to glare over every once in a while at Alice. I can tell from her thoughts that her infatuation with me lead to missing every word I actually said, meaning she didn't hear that Alice is my sister, rather than competition. Not that Jennifer is much of a contender for me in the first place, but in her mind she is first in line right now, should I decide I need company, and Alice may jeopardize that. She's trying to think of ways to get Alice alone and tell her to back off, so I'll have to be extra careful not to leave her alone when I can help it.

The next few minutes in her mind can be summed up in one of two categories: either a bitter epitaph about Alice's faults or a gloating pep talk about herself. Needless to say, I can't distract myself from that quickly enough.

Alice is still trying to absorb herself into her notes and is doing a decent job of it, mainly because she's trying to figure out what language the teacher is speaking. It's halfway through the year of high school level chemistry, and I doubt she took chemistry when she actually was school aged, which I imagine was quite a long time ago.

"There's a textbook in the shelf under your chair, you could skim it to get the basics." I speak slowly enough that I could be seen whispering were someone paying attention, but low enough that only she would hear me. I hear in her thoughts that she's a little startled, but she carefully reaches down and retrieves the book, opening it to the beginning and flipping through it between copying meaningless phrases off the board. I'm sure she learns fast, so I imagine if she takes her books home this week she should be caught up soon.

Overall, she seems fairly at ease. I didn't imagine that she'd do this well, especially given all of the things that have already gone wrong, but she's a fighter after all, just as Emmett insisted.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

The book is a lifesaver. Although even some of the more basic premises are new to me, it explains it as if I know next to nothing, and on this subject, that isn't far from the truth. As helpful as it is to have an idea of what's going on academically in this class, the book is more helpful in a different way; it distracts me from the stares of my classmates every time there is a lull in the notes. I hope that all the attention is because I'm new and will fade quickly, because I can't take this forever.

I chance another look back at Edward to find him right where I left him. His posture and expression are that of a passively interested student taking notes, but his eyes are far away, he's clearly not listening nearly as intently as he'd like it to appear. Nearly every person we've come into contact with has practically swooned in his presence, and I wonder if this is normal. Is that how people always react to threatening predators? Maybe my heritage has cured that gene in me, because I don't have the compulsion to fall at the feet of every vampire that tries out his get-whatever-he-wants smile.

Yet I have that exact compulsion with Jasper. The same irrational lack of self preservation washes over me whenever he so much as looks at me. I couldn't stay away if I tried, and I don't want to try. A mere week or two ago I would have sworn that no man had this power over me and no man ever would, and yet here I am, one meeting in a diner later, and he holds all of the cards. The most terrifying part of the whole thing is that I don't care. I feel as though I have no choice but to act to make him happy, to earn that rare, gorgeous smile.

I'm still afraid of him, somewhere in my mind I can't persuade myself otherwise, but I'm pulled to him so irresistibly that it doesn't matter. I woke up this morning and just had to know that he was alive, that he wasn't human- that I wouldn't lose him to the fragility of human ailments. In retrospect, that led me quite a bit closer to him than I would ever allow myself in my right mind, but my mind was far from right this morning and that's my excuse, to myself at least.

I glance back at the notes I'm writing, but they make no more sense than they did before. I'm going to have to read this book cover to cover before I even get an idea of what this is talking about. Oh well, if all goes well I'll have dozens of times through high school to figure it out, just like the other Cullens. I glance at the typed name at the top of my schedule: Alice Cullen. I love it. I don't even feel the slightest remorse at losing my father's name, not anymore. I know that he would want this for me, after all of these years. I absently spin the wedding band on my thumb. He would want this.

I look back at my book, trying to ignore the eyes burning into me. I won't be the center of attention forever, I can get through this. Just a few more days and they'll lose interest and then I'll be fine. Just a few more days. I glance back at Edward, still intent on his notes, or at least appearing to be intent. I wonder if he's been following the strange thread of my thoughts, but when he doesn't react I assume that he is otherwise occupied. When my attention falls again to the front of the room Mrs. Anderson is giving some sort of announcements, so I scribble them down just before the bell rings.

All of the sudden the whole room moves and I stay still, waiting for them to hurry out of the room. Mrs. Anderson gives me a sympathetic look through the waves of people as I'm still sitting down in the haze of movement. I glance behind me to find Edward also still in his seat, packing up his backpack slowly and intentionally.

As the room is clearing, Mrs. Anderson is doing her best to look interested in something else. Edward finally gets up, throwing his bag casually over his shoulder and stepping around my desk, giving me a second to follow as he speaks with the teacher.

"I didn't want to make a scene as it wasn't a problem, but would you mind if Alice and I switched places? She's very new to all of the attention and she'd be more comfortable in the corner where less people could see her." The same honey sweet tone appears and I can tell that she would deny him nothing. I doubt she would have protested either way, but this way there is no possibility she will say no. I chuckle as I throw my backpack over my shoulder moving to stand behind him to signal that I'm ready to go.

"Of course, Edward. How thoughtful of you, that would be just fine."

"Thank you, ma'am. We better get going before we're late for English."

With that we walk to the door. I manage a grateful smile in her direction before I tuck myself into Edward's shadow to face the crowded hallways.

There seem to be an endless stream of students headed directly for us, but I know that it's just my nerves getting to me. Edward walks steadily through them as if they are no bother to him at all, and they probably aren't. I wonder what it would be like to not care if someone ran into you or accidentally touched you, but I push the thought from my mind, I don't have time to think about that now, I do have to worry about that and I have to worry about it now or I'm not going to make it through the day.

After what seems like forever, we duck into a smallish room with bright colored posters on the wall. Edward leads me to the front of the room, but there are only a few students in the room so far. A short heavyset woman is sitting at the desk.

"Mrs. Hadley? This is my little sister, Alice. It's her first day here and I know that we have assigned seats, but it would be very helpful if we could sit together. She's never been to a large school before and she's a little nervous."

I'm thankful for each excuse he creates for my actions that make them sound normal. He avoids the real reason that I need to stay practically glued to his side. This has got to get easier, doesn't it? How do they do this every day?

"Well hello, Alice. You're a little one, aren't you?"

I'm not sure how to respond to that, so I simply nod in acknowledgement of her greeting.

"Well, we don't usually change the seating chart midyear, as you know, but I suppose that might be alright this once. Chase, would you be willing to switch seats with Edward?"

The boy in question looks a little disappointed, apparently he had been excited at the prospect of me filling the empty seat beside him, and so I'm even more pleased that Edward asked.

"Yes ma'am." He replies, dejectedly and moves to a seat across the room. As if on call, most of the class has filtered in during our short conversation, highlighting the fact that most of the room is behind my back from my new seat.

Edward leads me over to our new seats, in the second row. He can tell that I'm uncomfortable, and he's sending me sideways glances, trying to figure out if this is alright or if he needs to say anything. His seat is next to mine, but most of the class is behind me. I try not to meet his eyes, hoping he won't see how truly not alright this is. I don't want to cause a scene.

I know he can hear me so there isn't really any reason to hide, but I hold on to the illusion while begging him not to say anything.

He sits down first, leaving me the seat closer to the wall, but not as close as I'd like. I carefully set down my backpack and sit down, pretending that I haven't counted the number of males behind me and trying to chase away the thoughts of what could happen to me if I turn my back on them. I try to reassure myself, they're humans, children, really; the most dangerous man in the room is sitting next to me and I can see him. Shouldn't that be enough for me? I can tell by the set of Edward's jaw he doesn't appreciate my attempts to calm myself, but I try to reassure myself that he wouldn't be upset if he wasn't listening to my mind. If he doesn't want to hear it he shouldn't listen.

Unfortunately this attempt at distraction doesn't work for long. Although Edward is clearly the most dangerous in the room, I have to admit that I am sure as I can be that he means me no harm right now. Even though he could easily hurt me, possibly even accidentally, I can't convince myself that he's the only one I need to keep in my line of sight. The nine boys sitting out of my line of vision while I'm looking at the front board concern me more.

In any normal situation, I'm pretty sure I'm not afraid of them, but all together I can't help the sense of dread that distracts every intention of note taking. I'm in a public place, the teacher is in control of the classroom, everything is fine, but I know that I'm only strong enough right now to take two or three of them and there are nine. Edward would probably help me, right? Jasper would be mad at him if he didn't, is that a good enough reason? Do I want him to help? That might leave us alone, and then what? I shiver at the thought.

Class. I'm in a classroom. Students do it all the time, usually no one gets hurt. I'm supposed to be taking notes, but she's not writing anything. I've missed almost twenty minutes of her lecture so far worrying about this, I need to pay attention. She's talking about… participles… or particles… or popsicles… I can't really tell. None of the words seem to have meaning to me. The harder I try to pay attention the less I hear. I really need to relax.

After a few more indiscreet glances behind me and another three abortive attempts at note taking I realize something. I really only have three choices. I can give up now and go home, I can keep this up and have a panic attack before the end of the day, or I can trust Edward to take care of me until I get back to Jasper and Esme.

I can't leave. I've made it this far, and I won't quit. I'm not going to cause another scene in school; they'd never take me back even if the Cullens would allow me to try again. So I have to suck it up and trust Edward. It goes against just about everything my overactive protective instinct can come up with- trusting the most dangerous creature in the building to keep me safe- but I have to do this. I have to prove to myself and to them that I could be part of this family.

I don't really have to talk to him, and he still can't touch me, but I have to trust him here at school. If anything happens, he could take care of me. I just have to believe that he would. I finally chance a look at him, knowing that he's unhappy with what has been going on in my mind, but hoping that he'll offer me at least that assurance.

He doesn't look at me, at first, but when his eyes fall on me I'm surprised by the emotions I find there. Usually guarded Edward is wearing his heart on his sleeve for the first time since I met him, it's sort of disconcerting. He looks… fierce, in a word, but in the oddest of ways. I'm not afraid of him at all; in fact I think I may actually be willing to believe him. His jaw is set, but in determination, rather than frustration. His expression is a promise, a promise that no one will come near me while he's standing. The violence in his eyes somehow draws me in. I've never been on this side of the line before. I've seen strength attack, but I've never seen strength defend. Instinctually, I know that is what I'm looking at now. I can't help it; I simply stare back in amazement trying to take in all I see in his expression.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

She's been gone hours and I have no idea how I'm going to stand this every day. Why do humans even do school, anyway? Can't they all just stay home and learn things out of books themselves? Can't Alice at least do that? This is awful. The worst part is that I know how pathetic I'm being and I can't stop. I am Major Jasper Whitlock! I don't pace a hole through the floor worrying about some girl making it through a day of school with a bunch of humans!

Yet I can't even register that statement in my mind, because she isn't just 'some girl', she's Alice. She may not be human, but the humans in that school could still hurt her, and there is nothing I can do about it. I know that Edward will do his best, but what if she needs me there?

What am I thinking? She barely knows me. I can't wrap my mind around everything that has happened in less than a week. Are we really so inexplicably tied that I will feel like this every time I'm away from her forever?

I scan the house for what has to be the hundredth time since she left. There are only two within the walls, Esme and myself, and only a scarce few animals within the surrounding miles. Carlisle left for work at exactly twenty three minutes past eight o'clock, Rosalie and Emmett at quarter to eight, Edward and Alice at ten till. I'm going to go insane waiting here like this. I throw my pacing in the direction of the stairs, finding myself in the living room before I figure out where my feet are taking me.

Esme looks up, trying to look more surprised than she actually feels that I ended up down here.

"Well hello, Jasper, would you like to do something to distract yourself? I bet you're feeling a bit like a caged animal, waiting here for her to come home?"

I can't even bring myself to argue, there is no use in trying to hide why I'm so anxious; it's probably pretty obvious.

"Would you like to play a game with me?"

My eyes narrow instantly and I'm trying to find the trap. Although I know this is _Esme_ of all people, I can't control my automatic response to that term. It's been lifetimes since I've had any positive connotation connected with the word "game". Maria used to have all sorts of them, but they weren't pleasant for anyone but her.

She pauses, clearly sensing my suspicion. Her smile falters for a moment, but then returns, a question implicit in her tone that she won't ask, but I know I'm invited to answer. "We have all sorts of games and the kids are too busy to play, as taken as they are with their own pastimes." She gestures toward a wooden set of drawers in the living room, and although I'm pretty sure that she means nothing sinister by the offer, I can't help but check it out, just to be sure.

My eyes remain on her, but I take a step toward the wooden piece of furniture, looking for anything unusual about it and finding nothing. I carefully slide open the middle drawer, finding it full of benign looking boxes with brightly colored cardboard covers. Games, as in children's games, board games and the like; this is Esme, I have to remind myself.

"No" although relieved, I still am not up to sitting down to a mindless box of cardboard and plastic, it would only give me more time to worry without the ability to pace. When her face falls I add in a cursory "thank you", remembering my manners a minute too late.

She continues as though I didn't just respond to a normal question in a nearly insane way, and I'm thankful she doesn't ask. I don't know what answer I would give to sweet, innocent Esme as to what I thought she could have meant by that. "I didn't think you would be willing, but I figured I could at least ask. I have another option, if you are interested? Carlisle said you wouldn't be up to diversions, so he left something a bit more serious to work on, if you'd like?"

When I don't answer, she takes this as my invitation to continue. "The nomads, the ones Carlisle is tracking? He doesn't really have the daylight hours to look into them as much as he'd like, and I must admit I don't readily give up his attention when he's home," a mischievous glint twinkles in her eyes for just a moment, "so I convinced him to leave the information here for you to look at, if you'd like. We've decided to stay, even though that may leave us in their path, so we're trying to figure out what they're after, who they are, how many, if they're dangerous- things like that- and I thought that maybe you could help us."

"I'd be willing to look." Finally, something useful I can be doing. I may not be able to be there for her at school, but at least I can make darn sure she'll be safe when she gets home. I take the small envelope from Esme of paperwork and retreat back to the guest bedroom to get to work.

Well, there you have it! I love to hear from all of you, and if you sign in I promise to reply to every review! Please let me know what you think, it means the world to me!


	28. Afternoon Obsessions

So, here it is, my sweets!

Thank you all for your patience, I was waiting for it to get validated on Twilighted and that just happened yesterday, so here it is today!

Also, thank you to all the new readers, alerts and especially reviewers! Also, even more, thanks to all my old faithful reviewers, I love you all the most!

**Chapter 28**

*_*_*_*_Edward*_*_*_*_*

By some miracle, we've made it to lunch. Although the last near miss between the history classroom and the cafeteria was closer than I would have liked, we're here and we're still in one piece. I nearly had to grab Alice's arm and pull her back out of the way, but somehow she saw what was going to happen and stepped back. I still can't figure out how much of what we sense is similar and how much of how she lives is human, even from her thoughts I can't tell.

We move slowly through the lunch line, careful to leave plenty of room between us and the rest of the student body wanting lunch at this exact moment. I chance a look back at her. She's held up surprisingly well so far, the traumas and near traumas of the day notwithstanding. Moving through the line, I carefully chose an assortment of foods that would look normal together, and I catch sight of her selection out of the corner of my eye. If I didn't know better, I would say she's doing the same thing. I listen closer, realizing that I'd all but tuned her out with the familiarity of hearing her mental voice all day.

Her thoughts are calculated, she's more engaged right now than she has been all day. Her mind is facts and numbers and statistics as she carefully selects based on the food groups she would be expected to cover and the number of calories in the few things she didn't think she could get away with simply pushing around. Although I'd heard her trying to dodge Esme's well meaning force feeding, it's nothing compared to this, where she has the choice. By some odd twist, I get the impression that Alice's food is more of a prop than my own. I pay for both of our lunches and earn an annoyed glare from her. I hear in her thoughts that she had intended to get her own. I wasn't sure if she had money with her and I wasn't going to take the chance of embarrassing her so I don't even feel bad about it. I send her a "because I said so" sort of look and lead her to the far wall where we usually sit. Fortunately, we sit away from others to keep our distance anyways, so I hope this will be close enough to a corner for her to be able to relax a little, she's going to need it. As we have the later lunch, there are only two classes afterward, but I won't be attending either of them with her. Right after this she has the ridiculous homemaking class with Rosalie and then her math class alone. I wish now that I would have looked into who else is in that class. Hopefully Football Boy from class earlier cheated on his math and passed it, because I'm going to be suspiciously failing my advanced integrated math class very soon if he's in attendance with her.

Emmett and Rosalie are sitting opposite one another on the cafeteria table, about in the middle of the long rectangular table. I pause, waiting for her to chose where she wants to be in order to arrange myself in a way that makes her choice look natural. She sits on the same side as Rosalie, between her and the wall, and turns, putting her back to get a better view of the rest of the room. I sit on the opposite side of Emmett, so I'm well in her view, and begin moving around my food.

As if on cue, Emmett begins to talk about nothing to break the silence, and Rose leaves him pretty much out there to hold the conversation with himself. So, basically, this is a normal lunch on a normal school day. Alice, however, is impressive. We've been pretending to eat five days a week all school year for years, but she's much more convincing than we are. If not for constantly verifying with her mind, I would have sworn that she ate some of everything on her tray, maybe even a substantial amount of most of it. I'm so morbidly fascinated that I can't even bring myself to call her on it right now. In her mind she's separated categories I assume to mean foods she is actually willing to eat some of, and then the ones she thinks people expect she should or would have, the ones she plays with to make people think she eats.

She's drinking water, and I notice that of all of the things that are actually going into her system, that is the majority of it. She drinks all of her water and I see her tuck the bottle away with the intention of refilling it later, a fact I store away for consideration with the rest of her strange eating behavior.

Today's acceptable foods are the crosscut carrots and what looks to me like radioactive petroleum jelly. It comes in the shape of the plastic container, but I have no doubt that it will keep that shape for longer than I exist. Long story short, it doesn't look edible. The only other choice she was considering is a whole apple, but it was rejected because she had no way to cut it. Something that would never occur to me but is obvious to her, if she has to eat it off the core she can't shred it, move it or pretend to eat it because you can see the bites out of it. This is insane. The science experiment in front of her is wriggling slightly as she pokes it and separates it. Some of it makes it into her mouth, but not much. The rest is divided and pushed around until it's nearly liquefied, proving, in my mind, it's inadmissibility into a category of something you should eat. The foods she's chosen for show fare even worse than the neon gelatinous mess. They are shredded, hidden, dropped or moved until it looks for all the world like she's actually eaten something. There has to be some sort of name for this skill, it's incredible to watch. She times the destruction of her food perfectly with the length of time allotted for lunch, which she must have surmised from her printed schedule, so as I am opening my mouth to say something about her lack of actual consumption of any of it, the bell rings. The woman is a mastermind. She quickly picks up her tray, waiting for Emmett and me to stand and move before she does.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

Twenty more minutes, I can do this. I've almost made it through my first day of school.

I thought Rosalie was going to pounce on me the second she got me alone, given the plotting expression on her face, but she held her peace for a few minutes on the way to the next classroom. Edward and Emmett's classes were on the second floor, so we walked alone. She didn't exactly make an effort to keep me with her, she just sort of went and I kept up, but I was able to keep up, so that's all I really needed. As soon as we arrived, she sat herself down in the front row and indicated generally that I should join. I glanced up at the teacher just entering the room, but she didn't protest, just moved the person usually sitting there somewhere else. I'm not sure if this is because my reputation preceded me, or because no one else is willing to mess with Rosalie either. Although not entirely comfortable with Rosalie and I don't like being in front, the all-female class calmed my nerves a bit. Also, that was one of the few subjects that I don't feel terribly behind in; I know how to do most of it.

When the teacher turned away to write something down, Rosalie apparently saw her chance to get in what she's been trying to find a chance to say.

"Listen, scrawny, I saw what you pulled at lunch and you can't keep it up. Carlisle's going to put you on a feeding tube if you don't cut it out and you'll gain back the weight rather you like it or not. If you want to have any control over this at all you better start actually eating something."

I don't know what possessed her to warn me, or if she was actually threatening, or if she didn't care either way and it just happened to be at the front of her mind at the moment, but whatever the reason I'm glad she told me. Despite our excursion yesterday going reasonably well, I still don't trust him. Of all the things she could have told me, she seemed to know the right thing to say. Almost nothing could convince me to back down on this, but the threat of it being out of my control is making me seriously reconsider. Jasper would never let him do that to me, would he? Misguided though it may be, he might consider it for my good… would he agree to that, going directly against what I want? Can I trust any of them?

I wonder how much I'll actually have to go back to eating before the threat goes away. Will it be a constant contingency, hanging over my head if I lose a certain amount of weight, or is it just something that he mentioned now because of my actions recently? Is it even a real possibility, or is Rosalie just trying to get to me?

I will admit, if she was just trying to give me something to worry about other than this period of math all alone, she did well. I'm still worrying about it, sitting here without any of them in the room in my last class. Someone must have mentioned something to her, because the teacher put me in the back of the room without having to ask.

The lesson makes no sense to me, but I've already resigned myself to reading all of these textbooks cover to cover in the next couple weeks to try to catch up. I scribble down some more meaningless lines and numbers in order to look engaged.

My pencil wanders on the page; I don't know if I'll be able to keep this up every day, it's exhausting. Our third class, government, is taught a fairly intimidating man in his early thirties and although Edward's little attempts at distraction helped, I know that it's probably going to be one of the hardest classes for me. It's the strangest thing, because I know he can't actually hurt me, both because we're in a crowded classroom and because he probably is not physically strong enough, but I think it's an authority thing, I'm distrustful of men in authority.

My mind drifts back to Carlisle, more specifically to Rosalie's warning. He's a doctor, an authority, and he's the head of the house, making him harder to be comfortable with than anyone else I the house, and this is certainly not helping. Unfortunately, there is no way that I can ask about this and find out the truth, so until I hear otherwise pretty much unanimously, I'll assume it to be true. Maybe I can ask Edward about it, would he lie to me? I'm not sure.

The shrill sound of the final bell pulls me back to reality and I start slowly packing up my books. As I'm not really up to navigating the hallways yet by myself, it was agreed that I'd wait in my class until Edward came and picked me up. Although I don't know how I'm going to make that look remotely natural, I also am not going to risk the hallways and their panic attack potential without anyone with me.

I play with my pencil a second before putting it away as the other students nearly run for the door. I don't notice that he's hanging back until there are only a few people left in the room. The teacher, Ms. Haskins, is one of them, so I'm not too worried, but I hope that I'm wrong in my assumption that he's waiting to talk to me. I recognize him from my first class, but I haven't seen him since then. When he notices I'm not moving, he sits down in the last seat a row away, leaving a desk between us, but closer than he had been.

"Alice, right?"

I was kind of hoping he wouldn't talk to me, and now that he has I feel compelled to respond. I despise social convention right now. Where is Edward when I need him?

"Yes." I try to convince myself that it's good enough to respond out loud, but I keep hearing my mother's chiding not to be rude. I try to keep my sigh of frustration too quiet to be heard. "Alice Cullen. I don't think I caught your name?"

"Ian. Nice to meet you."

Where is Edward? This is not on my list of acceptable activities for the end of the school day; I already survived the requisite eight hours of torture, wasn't that enough? Why does the universe hate me?

"Nice to meet you too."

"So, how was your first day?"

"It was fine, thank you for asking." Can he please just leave me alone? I scan the hall outside the door again, but there are still a lot of people out there. He is coming, he has to be.

"Listen, Alice, I know you have your new family and all, but I heard you got bounced around in foster care a while. I was in the system until last year; it's all pretty recent to me too. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm around."

That was unexpected. I kind of assumed he was talking to me on some sort of bet or something, but this wouldn't have been on the top ten guesses as to why he made the effort. I think most of the other attempts to approach me have been cut short by the actual and rumored looks from Edward.

"Um, thank you Ian. That's very sweet of you. I was lucky to find them; I think I'll be alright now."

"Yeah, you were lucky to have real family out there somewhere. Edward is real family, right? Or is he just really protective?"

"He's real family, my half brother." Ian has a sort of disarming way about him, and I can't help but continue the conversation. I'm still watching the door for Edward, but I can tell that for the moment Ian means no harm. The teacher is also still at her desk, a monitor of sorts, and I know that if it's just him, I can defend myself. For one of the first times since entering the building I feel close to normal. It's just another town I'm traveling through, but this time I have a family to travel with.

"That's cool. I always wondered if I had real family out there floating around in the system, but I never found any. My birth mom wasn't very good at taking breaks from her drugs, so I doubt I have any living siblings from her, but no one knew who my dad was, so maybe someday I'll meet my long lost sibling when I'm thirty or something, they can write a book about it."

I smile, just a bit, I can't help myself. He seems authentically well meaning. As much as I can like a human boy I've just met but am still inherently distrustful of, I like talking to him. I know, however, that Edward should be arriving soon and I don't want him to pummel the poor boy, so I think it's only fair that I give him warning.

"I hope you do. I imagine Edward will be here pretty soon to pick me up, so if you don't want the big brother glare you'd probably better get going, but I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing, Alice. I don't know why they've been hiding you away all day; you're really quite a bit more normal than the rest of your family." His smile tells me that he's joking, but I'm still not too sure how to take that. I manage a small smile back as he stands again, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

"And seriously, group homes suck, but foster is way worse. If you ever need to commiserate, I'll be around."

"Thank you, Ian. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya!" With a quick wink over his shoulder he's gone, and although I'm not usually comfortable with that gesture, I find myself excusing it because of the conversation. Given that, I'm pretty pleased with myself. I held a whole conversation out loud with a boy at school without freaking out even once.

I hear footsteps start up from the end of the hall and in another minute Edward sticks his head in the door. I narrow my eyes suspiciously, was he waiting at the end of the hall?

He looks away and I know that I've caught him. Why would he leave me in here by myself talking to a boy? Jerk. I throw my backpack over my shoulder and fall into step behind him, paying a little more attention, as I have been since this morning's fiasco, to our surroundings.

"So, made a new friend, huh? He's wanted to talk to you since this morning."

"Yeah, no thanks to you, just waiting out there and leaving me alone."

"He didn't mean any harm. He would have gotten suspicious if I kept intercepting him; he was worried that we were just another foster home for you. He would've thought I was trying to hide you."

"Is that all that bad? I don't mind being hidden." I think back to the swarms of teenagers I've been surrounded by all day, I certainly don't mind being hidden.

"Whatever, you were fine."

I've been picking up books to bring home in every class, so as we leave the first building the weight of my backpack starts to catch up with me. Before I can even finish the thought, Edward reaches for it, throwing it over his shoulder. I'm impressed that he managed the action without really touching me at all.

"So, the others are already on the way home. Luckily, that should save you the first day grill from most of the family, but I doubt that will be enough to pacify Jasper."

"No, I'm sure it won't be, but I don't mind." After an entire day of being expected to speak and respond at school, I find it hard to believe that just a few days ago I refused to speak out loud to him, after just eight hours here it seems like the least of my concerns.

He unlocks the car with the button in his pocket and puts both of our bags in the backseat. I get in before he has the chance to attempt my door too and although I get a slight reproving glance, he climbs in the other side without comment.

Before we even get on the road, I feel my mind wandering back to Rosalie. Although talking with Ian was a good momentary distraction, I can't help but wonder about the validity behind her threat… or warning… or whatever it was.

"Wait, what? Rosalie threatened you?"

Damn; mind reader.

"Not exactly threatened me, just made me aware of a threat, I guess."

"And that was?"

I wonder if he knows. Even if he doesn't think she's serious I'm not off the hook, what if Carlisle has been keeping it from him?

"Whoa, wait a minute. What she said involved Carlisle? Alice, whatever it was, I doubt it was true. Can you please just tell me?"

Although I'm tempted to dodge the subject (and scream obnoxious obscenities in my mind the rest of the way home in response to his impatience), I am more mature than that; although only just. I know that he can't help what he hears in my mind, and I guess I wouldn't want him to just pretend like he didn't so he could act surprised when I said it.

"You have no idea how often I have to do that. Will you please tell me what she said?"

Here goes nothing, at least maybe he'll tell me upfront and I'll know. "Rosalie said that if I don't start eating Carlisle's going to hook me up to a feeding tube." It kind of comes out as one long word, but I know that he could hear it in my thoughts even if he couldn't understand it out loud.

He's silent for a moment and I can't tell if it's because he's trying to understand what I said or because he's choosing his words to answer.

"Alice, I didn't hear him say anything like that, so I can't confirm or deny it, but something needs to be different. I don't know if you knew this, but Rosalie and I have been through medical school as well, even though Carlisle is the only one who actually practices. She may have put his name on that because she was contemplating it herself, I'm not really sure, but this can't keep happening. From my best guess at your weight, you're already dangerously underweight for your height. I know that you're not human and you're a little more durable, but not even you are going to be able to keep this up."

My mind is reeling. Is he saying she was right? Am I really safe here? Jasper wouldn't let them do anything to me I didn't allow, would he? Esme, would she let them do this to me? I can't let them control this; I don't have anything else to stop everything from spiraling out of control. I can feel myself losing it, which is probably why Edward speaks again, to distract me.

"Alice, hybrid though you may be, I'm almost certain you can still starve to death. Working under that assumption, we will do anything to keep you safe, even from yourself, but only if you refuse to do something about it on your own."

He pauses again, slowing carefully to the last intersection before the highway home. He looks at me, making sure he has my attention before he speaks again. "Jasper needs you, Alice. Do it for him if you won't do it for yourself. He couldn't keep going without you, and the way you're going is rapidly leading you that direction."

I pause to consider this. I'm not actually that bad, am I? People don't just up and die from things like this, isn't your mind hardwired to stop you before you get that bad? I couldn't die from this, it's just a way to cope, and everyone does something to get through, right? This is just my something… surely it couldn't be that bad…

"Alice, stop. It is that bad. You can't keep this up. You can't even consider keeping this up, it's dangerous. You could damage internal organs, end up with brain damage, all sorts of terrible things. The truth is that if you were a stranger walking into the ER tonight Carlisle wouldn't think twice about hooking you up to one, that would be the reasonable first treatment. I think he hasn't mentioned it yet because he wants you to figure this out on your own. Alice, please figure this out. You have to know that isn't what we want?"

Do I really know that? There is no way I'm giving up control of this, I've seen how those contraptions work and there is no way I'm letting them do that to me. What then? Would Jasper stop them? Would anyone stop them? I flash back to the asylum with its cold tables and leather straps. Would they do that, if they thought it was for my good? What about when Jasper went out hunting? If Esme left? What would they do to me, left there at the mercy of the house? Anyone changes when presented with captive prey, any vampire, specifically. Jasper bit me that first day, would the others wonder too and try it? What else might they try?

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Love you all!

Manda


	29. Graceful as an Anvil

Well, after waiting patiently… and then waiting some more… I've decided that you all have waited long enough for my validation beta over on Twilighted to get chapter 28 up. So, as I finished chapter 30 today (which is my minimum requirement for posting a new chapter), I decided that I really can't make you guys wait any longer :)

Also, to make up for the crazy wait, I cut this chapter longer, in fact, it's the longest so far! So, thanks for sticking with it, and we're getting kinda sorta close to 1 review for every 100 hits! Yeah! So you guys should review so we can get there! As we're approaching the 30 chapter landmark, I'm going to write a one shot- whichever wins by popular demand on comments- when we can make it to the 1 to 100 ratio! So, leave me a comment, help us get there, and register your vote!

Thank you so much to all of the new favorites and story alerts this last chapter, it really does mean a lot to me! Also, thank you to my faithful reviewers. I love you all!

**Chapter 29**

*_*_*_*_Edward*_*_*_*_*

She brought it up, but I should have kept my mouth shut. I am _so_ ill equipped to have this conversation with her. The terrified scenarios going through her mind right now are more than proof of that. Why couldn't I have dodged and left well enough alone? Esme surely could have approached this much more delicately. Why did Rosalie tell her this in the middle of school for her to dwell on for a few hours and then spring on me? I am so going to kill her when we get home.

I thought we'd gotten somewhere today, and now the first ten minutes of the ride home have managed to send her spiraling toward a panic attack at breakneck speed. I have to pull myself together and think of something. Fix this, Cullen.

"Alice, that's not going to happen. Just eat something on your own and everyone will leave you alone, okay? Jasper won't let anyone hurt you. No one is planning that morbid picture in your mind, everything will be fine, I promise."

"Unless I don't eat."

She calls me on the exception to my assurance, but I can't leave that image in her mind. "Even if you don't. We'll help you figure this out."

"And if I don't want to figure this out?" She narrows her eyes at me, daring me to lie to her.

"Then we'll help you figure it out enough that you're not on the verge of starving to death, and then you won't have to."

"I need this." I'm not sure if I heard the whisper out loud, or if she only admitted it in her mind.

"Why?"

Her mind is silent, my intrusion chasing away the musings in her head. She doesn't want me to know, so she keeps her mind there.

"Alice, give me something. I want to understand, try me."

Nothing. Whatever this is to her, it's important. I'm realizing now that her focus on methods may have been an attempt to mask this from me the whole time. She probably could have decided what and how to hide nearly automatically by now, the counting and figuring was just a show for me, a distraction. She doesn't want me to know why, which is the strangest part. I wonder if she doesn't really know either, and she's afraid of what _she'll_ find if she opens her mind and shows me.

"We can work this out, but you need to give me something to work with. We can't exactly send you off to counseling, so we're it. Tell me why I need to be on your side on this."

The images begin to surface slowly, like bubbles rising to the surface, showing themselves, and then disappearing. I see a small dark room with a single door as the only interruption of the solid wall on any side. The door has a small mail slat in it, and a small bowl is being pushed through it. It teeters for a moment on the ridge before falling onto the dirty ground. I can feel the absolute despair associated with this memory.

Next I see a little girl with dark hair walking hand in hand with a man, maybe her father? Although the first is clearly related, I don't see anything significant about this one. She looks up at him and smiles, but he doesn't return the gesture.

Following immediately is a picture through a round gilded mirror, probably at a vanity as she's sitting in front of it. Her cheeks are light pink and fuller, not as sunken as they look now and her hair is longer. Her skin is ivory, rather than her current pale-translucent, and her body is a much healthier shape. She looks older, a lot older, but her eyes are bright red. I start a little at the image, nearly swerving the car across the median in my distraction.

She immediately misreads my distraction and her mind goes blank. She thinks I'm responding to her figure, either with revulsion or… inappropriate fascination, and I need to correct her quickly before she shuts me out forever.

"It's not that, Alice. It's your eyes, they were red. I didn't even know if that was possible for you, you can feed off of humans?"

"Yes. But I don't."

This doesn't really clarify the red in her eyes in that picture, but she brings it back carefully, watching me for any outward response. Maybe she fed of off humans when she was younger? I carefully keep my eyes on the road, making a show of not reacting to anything else she shows me.

The room with the mirror is not well lit, but I see a figure emerge from the shadows. The build is male but the features are clouded. He comes to stand behind her and I feel her cringe. Doesn't whoever that is know not to stand behind her? Maybe she didn't used to mind. He reaches forward, his hand resting on her thigh and his face buried in her neck. She doesn't move, just continues to stare blankly into the mirror.

That one was a bit disturbing; I still don't know what she's trying to tell me. I don't understand what she's showing me, but she's talking about it, well, kind of, and this is more than we've gotten from her before. Rose's theories are good, but hearing it from her is better.

She's young again and a woman is helping her dress. She's pulling a dress over the child's, Alice's, head, but the back won't fasten; it's too small for her. The woman sighs visibly, looking at the fasters on the back of the offending garment as if willing them to meet, before turning and pulling out another dress. The room shifts and now we're looking out a crack in the door, but the line of vision is only a few feet off the ground. A different man than the one in her earlier memory sits with the woman at a table. I hear the sentiment; they can't afford the clothing their daughter is outgrowing, and she's growing faster than seems possible.

I wonder if she grew faster than a human, Jasper seems to think that she wasn't all the way human even before she was bitten. Did that make her self-conscious?

The images keep coming, but I don't understand most of them. She's showing me her insecurities, but so little of it makes sense to me that I feel as if I truly know nothing. Even with the ability to read her mind, and her laying it out for me, I'm missing a lot of what I should be able to get from this. I wonder if it would make more sense to Jasper, has she explained any of this to him? The only thing I solidly understand about the parade of images is how deep this really is. If at all possible, we can't take this from her. For all of the reasons I understood and all of the ones I missed, this is really important. We're going to have to try anything else to convince her, because taking the decision out of her hands is going to be disastrous. I guess, in the end, that's probably all she needed me to get out of all of that, so I understand. As I turn into the driveway she speaks out loud for the first time in the trip.

"You won't tell him, will you?"

"Tell him what?" I'm assuming the "him" in question is Jasper, although I don't think I understood enough of what I saw to be able to tell him about it anyway.

"What I showed you."

"That you showed me or what you showed me? Will you tell him that we talked about it?"

She looks down, embarrassed about something that I can't get from her thoughts. "Maybe. Just please don't tell him."

We pull into the garage and I get her door before pulling her backpack out of the back seat and throwing it over my shoulder, followed by my much lighter bag. All of those books are going to break her back. I take a step toward the door before I feel the lightest touch on my back. I turn around slowly to find Alice, her arm still outstretched, a shocked expression on her face that probably mirrors mine. She just purposely touched me, but so far she seems okay. She's waiting for something bad to happen, but when the flashback doesn't come, she asks again, "You won't tell him, right?"

I forgot that I didn't answer her, but I would have rather not. I want her to tell Jasper about the whole thing so I don't have to keep it from him, but it isn't my decision in the end. "No, I won't. But you should."

We share a defiant look that borders, for a moment, on a glaring, each willing the other to give in, but in the end I turn back and enter the house. I know that most of the house heard our little exchange, but I hope that Jasper will have the good sense to wait until later to ask her about it.

I hear from Esme that Rose and Emmett arrived home over twenty minutes ago and she was starting to worry, although Jasper had been pacing the living room for over an hour. I also don't hear Emmett or Rose in the house; they must have gone off somewhere.

He lets her get through the door and enter the living room before moving toward her, hovering as if unsure if he is allowed to touch her.

"How was your first day, Alice?" Esme is almost as anxious as Jasper to hear how things went. Esme hadn't thought that Alice would make it through the whole day her first day; she'd assumed that we would gradually work her into the routine, yet here she is. Although I'm still a bit frustrated with her for asking me not to tell Jasper about our conversation, I can't help but be proud of her that she made it. I think there was a lot of progress today and I hope she sees that too.

"It was alright. We had some mishaps, but nothing serious."

"Carlisle called earlier; he said he heard from the school about you getting hurt, is everything alright?"

Jasper was clearly not privy to that bit of information, because hearing it now he sends a quick glare toward Esme and begins indiscreetly checking Alice for injury.

"Jasper, stop. I'm fine, I heal fast. I ran into a teacher and he knocked me down, but Edward had been trying to get out of my way so I wouldn't have to touch him and so he didn't have time to catch me and still look human. Everything was fine, he brought me to the office and I was already all healed up by then anyway so we went to class. Everything was fine."

Everyone looks a bit surprised at the amount of information she willingly shared out loud, but she recovers quickly.

"Well, how about we all sit down and you can tell us all about your day?" Esme offers. We all take a few steps, Alice quickly taking her up on her offer and sitting down in her circular chair. Jasper stands beside her chair, leaning against the wall. He stays carefully in her sight, but I can tell he's just as much trying to keep _her_ in _his_ sight. He worried about her today and he's glad to have her back.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

She's home and she's safe. Everything else can be pardoned, although I'm still a little annoyed with Edward for letting her fall. With minimal prodding from Esme and an occasional small addition from Edward, we hear about her whole day.

I wonder if she's feeling so chatty because she's spent the day around humans. I imagine she probably didn't talk much today, but there was probably lots of things she wanted to say then that she couldn't, so maybe this house has become relatively more safe to her after spending the day away. I'm glad to see that she seems to be opening up more, especially after such a long day, it's a good sign.

I am in no mood to talk, but hearing her go on about her day is calming my nerves. As she begins her story, I start up a diagnostic of her mental, physical and emotional state. If not for my gift I would probably be worse than useless at the last category, after so long trying to turn it off with Maria. It seems nature saw fit to ensure that my willfully disregarded aptitude as a human for reading people came with me to this life, rather I like it or not. Although it only made me miserable with her, it comes in handy now.

I can still smell the slightest tinge of her blood, but I can tell by the mixed in overpowering scent of soap that she'd tried to wash it off, so it must be from earlier. Other than that, she seems to be in fine physical condition. The only mark visible on her skin is the scar on her neck, and that one was clearly my doing, not a school mishap. Mentally she seems better than ever. She's speaking, and more than one word answers to questions. She seems to have fared well today out with the humans; it probably does her good to get out and socialize with others who are less threatening than us. Emotionally she is a little all over, but that's probably a good sign too. Since I've met her, her emotions have strayed very little from a limited spectrum: fear, pain, shame and resignation that, I anticipate, masquerades as the forerunner of hope. Today, her emotions are much shorter term, and I gage this change to be healthy. Not everything is tied into one's entire existence, some things just happen on a certain day and that's all there is to them. Sometimes events are just not that significant. Her newfound divorce of insignificant events from broad, overarching emotions seems like forward progress. I can't know for sure, after all I've hardly studied these things, but I hope I'm right. I can only hope that school continues to have this effect on her, as it will probably be slowly driving me mad worrying and analyzing it.

I don't know how I'm going to be able to survive this every day. When I was with Maria, I knew that I couldn't let anything valuable to me out of my sight. I remember there was one of the newborns; she was weaker than the rest. I never knew her name, because I never took time to learn any of their names. She was small, really only a child, and she often wasn't able to eat because of the others. I killed for her, just once, and fed her when it wasn't time. The next day she was gone. No explanation was given, but I knew what had happened. Maria found out, and her time was up before schedule.

When Peter and I began to form our alliance, I knew that the second I left him she would find an excuse to have him killed, too. She was vengeful like that, and she made sure that I had no dedication stronger than to her. So he came with me. I named him my right hand man, and he helped me keep the others in line, but more than anything he stayed there so I could make sure she didn't get to him. Unless I was with her, he was with me. I knew I was too valuable to her to risk seriously harming me, so I kept myself between my almost friend and my ruthless master.

Although I know in my head that Alice is going to a building full of harmless humans, every time she's out of my sight I wonder if she'll still be alive the next time I see her. After that first girl, there were very few things I cared about enough to defend from her. Almost none, in fact, until Peter. Even after him, there was nothing else. He left for Charlotte, and I never understood that kind of devotion; until Alice. Now, it makes perfect sense. I can't imagine my tiny, frail Alice in that hell, but if I had met here there, if she had been Maria's, I would have done anything to get her away. Peter risked his life to get her out alive, but I know I'd do the same if Alice would have been there.

I don't know if Maria is still out there somewhere, but she will never get anywhere near my Alice. I can't imagine her living like that, killing to survive a few months before being sent to her death for a shallow cause she knew nothing of. The worst part about the picture is seeing myself, the dealer of death when the time came, sending them blindly into their graves for a victory that will be reversed within the month. When she chose me, she reassigned changing the newborns to me as well, and I felt every moment of fear as they changed; the despair as they lay dying, the desperation as they awoke, and then the all eclipsing blood lust that burned away the last of their humanity. I would have felt all of the emotions I've elicited from Alice since I met her on a much more catastrophic scale. I wouldn't have survived it.

I'm pulled back from my depressing train of thought by Alice's voice raised, I quickly tune back into the conversation to find that she's only retelling a particularly close call in the hallway of nearly running into someone else. Although again annoyed at Edward, I'm less worried about her story than my original assumption that she was in trouble.

I try to pull myself back to the present. That Jasper isn't here with Alice, this one is different, or at least is trying to be. I can't quite convince myself it's entirely true, but I can see that some things have certainly changed, and that gives me hope. Maybe someday I can be the man she needs me to be.

As she finishes her retelling, I realize that I still know almost nothing about her day. I'll have to ask Edward to fill me in on what I missed later, when she falls asleep. Maybe I'll ask him to go hunt with me, it's been long enough. Alice's fear last time I returned is more than enough incentive to try harder to adopt their lifestyle; maybe having Edward along telling me about Alice's school day would help me keep focused.

I'm still a little thrown by what I've seen today, the odd path of the nomads. I suppose any path would look odd, were our kind taking it. I imagine it's probably perfectly normal, like anything else is until you start looking too far into it. That thought brings me back to the present after a quick apologetic glance at Esme, speaking of reading too far into innocent things.

Although I feel properly chastised for looking into nothing, I'm still going to ask Alice to stick close in the next few days. It would be just our luck that she would be wandering around alone in the woods when they pass through and become a snack… or a diversion… or a _pet_. I need to pull myself back from this train of thought now before I level the city with the rage I feel like projecting. I'll keep her close, and everything will be fine. I'll talk to her tonight, everything is alright. She's here with me again, safe for the moment.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

After our animated retelling of every moment of the day, the family falls into their own routines. I reach blindly into my bag and pull out a book, there are so many to choose from that it really doesn't matter which one my hand falls on first. It's just my luck, however, when I retrieve my math book, the subject that makes the least sense to me right now. I pull out my notebook too, deciding that I'll read as far as we are and then try to make some sense of the problems assigned for tomorrow.

Edward has disappeared somewhere upstairs, and although I'd like to think he's busy doing homework, I bet he finished anything he needed to do in the spare seconds in class. I doubt this sort of thing takes him long. Although I imagine he didn't go far, having him out of the room gives me the illusion of being able to think without his supervision, as even if he can still hear me, I can't see his reaction. Unfortunately I don't really have time for too much enjoyment of my unsupervised mind, as I really do need to figure this school stuff out. Jasper has moved from his post against the wall to sitting at the couch to my right, his posture careful and measured. He's hovered pretty close since I got home, I can't help but notice, but he's hardly said a word to me at any point. Now he just sits there, frowning into a book nearly as thick as the one on my lap but much older looking. I can't read the cover, so I give up wondering for the moment.

I have to make myself look down at the first real page of information in this book, about fifteen pages into it, but I'm having a hard time concentrating knowing that no one else in the house has to suffer through this horrendous educational material that I'm trying to figure out.

Emmett and Rosalie arrived before us, I assume, but I haven't seen them since we came in. They weren't at the play by play of my day for Jasper and Esme, probably because they've heard most of it or were there. I think Edward and Emmett have classes close to one another at the end of the day, I imagine they had a moment to chat around classes.

I glance down at the work again, resigned to try to focus. Math, who really writes these textbooks, anyway? Who decided that words are supposed to describe relationships in numbers?

"Alice, are you alright?"

I didn't realize my distain for this subject was so clearly written across my features, but Jasper seems to have caught on easily enough; too perceptive for his own good, in my opinion.

"Fine," I huff irritably. There is no way this stuff is happening tonight, no matter how convinced I try to be that it will. Maybe one of the other subjects, but not this one, not yet. Usually I tend to just _get_ things, and now, trying to figure this out on my own feels like I'm trying to put together a puzzle, but I was expected to bring half of the pieces with me and I don't have them. The basic concepts make perfect sense, but I'm missing so much in the middle, between them and this, that it doesn't make sense. I slam the book shut, hearing it close with a satisfying _thwack_ and blindly chose another book.

This one is my literature book, this I can do. The best part about this one is that I don't have to catch up. I can simply read the story that we're beginning without having to cover everything they've been through this year. I learned in my short hour in English that the class has been split into sections, and the grammar one finished before break, starting literature right when I jumped in. I can read stories and ramble about them on paper, of that I'm sure. I read through the short assignment quickly, feeling satisfied that I've gotten something measurable accomplished.

I fish for the next book, and find the thick government book. My thoughts wander for a moment to the teacher; I think I even missed his name in my distress over first laying eyes on him. I know Edward heard me begin to freak out; even before hearing my mind I'm sure he registered the immediate changes in my body as I suddenly struggled for breath. I hadn't been expecting a man, my previous teachers being female, and as Edward was blocking my view, I especially hadn't expected a man _that close_ to me when Edward moved from between us. He wasn't indecently near by any means, simply much closer than I allow strange men, and I was surprised.

I had to give both of them credit though, they managed to recover quickly and gracefully, at least as much as was possible given my reaction. Before I even realized what I was doing, I reached for Edward. I knew, even in that moment, that I might regret the decision, but at the time he seemed safer than the unidentified male who just appeared in my vision. Surprisingly, that turned out to be a good decision. I could almost see my shocked and frightened expression mirrored back in the teacher's eyes as they widened, taking in my obvious terror in the first second and then taking a step away to put more space between us in the next. My hand on Edward's arm steadied me, strangely enough, and with my newfound space I was able to give him a half nod and scurry to the seat he indicated. Luckily, Edward had been standing between me and the rest of the class when he stepped back, meaning that most of them had missed my little episode; only seeing the teacher's strange reaction. Although still mortified, I was thankful for small miracles and tried to focus the rest of class.

I come back to the present to find Jasper staring at me with an odd expression on his face. I can't control the immediate blush at being caught drifting off, probably again.

"Where did you go?" He asks, his tone softer than I'm used to hearing from him.

"Sorry. I was just remembering something from earlier. I have to focus, though." The last bit was probably about as much for me as him, I needed to remind myself that I didn't have time for thinking.

"You were upset."

"The teacher in this class startled me a little. He didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't expect him."

His eyes darken a little, and he seems to be searching out any hidden meaning behind my words. I shoot him my best everything-is-fine smile, and although I'm not sure he buys it completely, he turns back to his own book.

I do my best to focus, reigning myself back into the dusty material for what seems like the millionth time already. I don't know how _humans_ make it through this sort of drudgery, much less my new ethereal family.

I open up the government book and my notebook to the beginning of the new chapter assigned, and dutifully copied down each of the bolded words along with a contextual definition. It's mindless, but that is a relief compared to the alternative.

I glance through my nearly meaningless notes from chemistry and decide that one will have to wait for another day as well. There aren't any assignments due yet, so I can get away with putting it off another day. I think slowly through the hours, trying to figure out what I have left: chemistry, English, government, history. I hadn't looked over my history notes yet. There wasn't any assignment, but I skim the chapter she's lecturing on anyway, to make sure I'm familiar with the material.

Satisfied, I put that book aside too. The last two classes were home economics and math, and I've already dismissed math. There wasn't much to look over for the other class, I have a decent idea how to keep a house, having been successfully living alone and keeping up good appearances for decades.

So, after only a few hours of sitting here in my corner chair, I feel much more prepared for this 'school' thing. Admittedly, I won't exactly be right on the same page as everyone else in math and science, but I'll make sure to get Edward's help on any assignments that come up and I should be caught up in no time.

I gather up the sprawling collection of books surrounding my little corner chair and jam them back into my bag, barely convincing the zipper to close.

"Finished?"

I start slightly in surprise at his voice. I'd hardly remembered Jasper was still here with me, and that thought startles me. How could I forget the male vampire a mere feet away from me, no matter how distracted I was? My guard is slipping, and I don't like it. I know that I want to be able to trust them, but I don't think I'm ready to give up my decades of built up defenses quite yet. I take one more steadying breath and do my best to respond normally.

"Yes."

He closes his book and sets it beside him on the couch. "Anything on your agenda for the evening, Miss Cullen?" His voice drops to a quiet, but playful tone and I don't know what to do with the new inflection. I'm also not entirely sure about the choice of title, as I'm still getting used to the name myself. I almost look over my shoulder for one of the others before I realize that he is talking to me. Alice Cullen, the name still sounds foreign in my mind. I feel a vision start to tug on the edge of my consciousness, but I push it away quickly. It never used to be this easy to ignore, but after years of practice I think I've managed to tame it a little. I still have a healthy distain for the images that appear in my mind, given that the first still haunts me to this day. I know that once I learn something from them I can't unlearn it, even if it never becomes reality, like the first one. I think it's worth living without my gift to not have to take the chance of what I might see, my eyes directly by the fickle hands of fate.

I search for a surname to use in my response and realize that I've only heard his last name in a vision. After the first few visions I'd done my best to distract myself whenever my mind showed Jasper with the woman, but this one had gotten past before I'd figured out where it was going. Major Whitlock, she'd called him, but her voice spoke seduction rather than direction. That particular vision is a little too close in context for me to feel comfortable using the information. I do my best to draw myself back quickly, before he figures out my train of thought by my emotions.

"No, I don't think so. Do you have plans for us?"

He studies me quizzically, but doesn't respond immediately. Was my response somehow unexpected? I admit that my mind had been elsewhere, but I didn't think I'd said anything unusual. Maybe he expected me to have plans? Or maybe he has an idea of where my mind went, after all?

"Not really. So school wasn't so bad?"

"Well, some of it was, but overall it wasn't terrible. I survived just fine." I don't think that's what he actually wanted to know, so I wait patiently for him to get around to what he actually wants to talk about. I have no real trouble talking to him these days, even though I still struggle a little with the other males of the household.

"There was something I wanted to talk to you about." I'm a little afraid that he's somehow picked up on Edward and I's car conversation already or heard something from Rosalie or Carlisle, but I also need to be careful not to think about it too much and tip him off with my emotions if he doesn't know.

"Okay, what's on your mind?" I offer him my best attentive smile, hoping that whatever this is isn't going to be bad. I haven't had many serious conversations in my life and of those few none of them have been good news.

"I was looking over some information Carlisle left for me today. He's been watching some nomadic vampires across the border for a while now. It was really just a precaution, just in case they came this way. Well, near as I can tell, they are headed directly for us. They're not far now, a few more days at the longest. I don't know what state of mind they'll arrive in, but I doubt they'll pass right by without stopping in. It would be best if you had as little contact with them as possible if they come, as you appear close enough to human to feasibly be a breach of our nondisclosure laws. Also, it's in vampire instincts to be territorial, and it's likely that if they saw your… eccentricities, they may want you for themselves. So, as we expect them soon, you should be fine at the house. I imagine the overwhelming number and might of this group will sway any possible interest from you if you're out of sight, but we can't take the chance of them happening upon you outside of these four walls. It would be best if you didn't leave the house other than to go to and from school for the next few days, just until they pass through."

I have no idea why he thought that would be so serious, but maybe the introduction only sounded grave in my mind. Sure, I'm not a fan of being stuck anywhere, even in this beautiful house, but given the choice between the possibly untrustworthy but probably well meaning Cullen men and strange vampires with no such compulsions; I think I'm fine with staying home. I'm still trying on school, but I think it will work, and at the least it will give me a chance to get out of the house, as Jasper has already declared it an exception. I should be safe there with half of the others coming along with me. They might not be right beside me the whole time, but at least they're easily within range if anything goes wrong. I wonder if it bothers Jasper that he doesn't get to be there too. Surely he must get bored here, left to his own devices?

I glance up at Jasper and notice with some surprise his growing discomfort. Have I done something to upset him? It is at this moment that I realize that he's probably waiting for a response, and is taking my silence and the emotions of my thoughts as a no.

"Um, yes, that should be fine." I try to cover up my ever wandering thoughts with my sunshine smile, the brightest one I've got. I don't usually use it, but more often than not it works. I see the tension melt away from his stance, so I know that it's worked its charm again. I really should use that more often; if only I were still comfortable drawing attention to myself to get what I want.

So, what's the verdict? Like it? Not so much? Did Edward handle the conversation right?  
Don't forget! Help me reach my silly goal and I'll give you a oneshot in any perspective!

Love you all!

Manda


	30. Breaking the Silence

So, I got all excited reading your reviews, and started writing… and kept writing… so now I decided that it's only fair that I post another chapter for you guys, because you were so awesome and inspired it! And, for me, it's another long chapter!

We're closer than we've ever been on the 1 to 100 review goal, which is not quite there, but doing really well! So I've decided that after this I'm going to be writing the one shot based on the votes/ideas left on the reviews from this chapter, and I'll post it when we get there! So, please review, 'cause I'll love it and work faster :) And because then you get a vote and that's power, or something!

So, new POV this chapter, she's been waiting a long time to get her turn, and once she gets her turn she's hard to make quiet again… so you'll be hearing a lot from her in the next couple chapters :)

Finally, a huge thank you to my faithful few reviewers, you really do keep me writing, the feedback is what makes the time writing worth it!

**Chapter 30 **

*_*_*_*_Rosalie*_*_*_*_*

The second we cleared our property and ditched the car, we were off. I don't remember the last time I've felt so constrained to a place, but given my vampire memory, I'd have to say not since I was turned.

Emmett just gets it, just like he always does with me; I don't even have to tell him that I'm leaving or that he's coming. We won't stay away long, probably just until later tonight, but I need some time. The dense forest is a dark green blur in the sides of my vision, a sharp contrast against the snow on the ground and the subdued tones of my Emmett. He can't truly empathize, no one who hasn't been there really can, and yet here he is, no questions asked. I know that he'd rather be at the house with the others, especially with Alice, but he's here, with me, because that's just who he is. I will never deserve this man.

I push myself for as long as I can hold back my emotions, putting a few counties between us and the family and a few dozen miles between us and the closest sign of civilization. Before I have the chance to reconsider and run farther, Emmett reaches out his arm, throwing it around my waist and pulling me to him. The momentum of our running carries us to the ground, and we hit hard, rolling with the rest of our inertia, our bodies tumbling together roughly. When we come to a stop, I find myself lying flat, held roughly to Emmett's chest, one of his hands on the back of my neck and the other still locked around my waist.

I feel it before I even hear it, the nearly silent growl growing in his chest. It's a strange thing to explain, what that means to me, but I understand perfectly. I guess it's a sort of show of solidarity, as if he could scare my demons away with only his presence. The funny thing is, usually he can. It's his way of showing aggression _for_ me, rather than toward me. He's warning anything that would hurt me away, even if it's in my mind. I lose it before either of us can even say a word. He just knows, he gets me. I hold on to him too tightly, my nails scratching across his stone skin, but he doesn't complain. I can't hold it in anymore; my body begins to shake with my thwarted attempts to express myself. My vampire body is rejecting the insistence of my human emotions to cry, and my vampire mind is rejecting the action of sobbing with the inability to shed tears, leaving me with no other outlet than the violent shaking that Emmett knows too well. It doesn't even faze him anymore, the way it did in the beginning. He just holds on tighter and waits it out until I can speak again.

It's too long, as always, before I can face him. No one else will ever see me like this, but Emmett has been through every test, every attempt to push him away, every outburst, he's seen me through all of it. He's everything I never thought existed in a man and more. No matter how many times I expect the worst from him he never gives up on me. I slowly raise my eyes to his to find him already looking back at me. He carefully pulls us into a sitting position, with me still on his lap, knowing that I'm ready to talk to him now.

"She's just so little and fragile."

"Yeah, she is." He doesn't offer any more than that, waiting to see what else I have on my mind. It's not like he needs to ask who, there has been very little else to talk about since she came.

"I just don't know what to do with her. I just want to hit her or hug her or yell at her or just cry. It's like I don't know myself when she's around."

"Because she reminds you?" I would've smacked anyone else into next week for the insinuation, but I know it's my Emmett, and he's allowed to tread where no one else dares. However, if even he tried to pull something like that in front of people I'd have to bite his head off, I've got a reputation to uphold after all.

"I don't know, maybe. She's just so different from me. Something happened to her too, obviously, but she doesn't lash out at people, she doesn't fight or argue or yell… I wish she would, because then I could figure out how to handle her." I'm getting agitated, and I can't hold still anymore. I stand and start pacing, and Emmett stands as well. He does so to stay level with me, but makes no move to try to calm me down. He knows I have to get this out. "I have no idea what to do with the silent and terrified role… it just doesn't make sense to me. It's like she's everything I wouldn't allow myself to be after the attack. How can she justify that? How can she allow herself to be weak when it's caused her to be hurt before? How can she starve herself to nothingness when she knows it puts her at the mercy of those who could hurt her again? I just can't understand and it's making me crazy."

I know I'm rambling, but Emmett doesn't interrupt, just takes in what I'm saying silently. When he sees that I'm done for the moment, he offers his thoughts.

"Rose, just because she acts differently from you doesn't mean either of you are doing it wrong, and it certainly doesn't mean that what you did to keep yourself sane was any less right. You're different people, different personalities, it's not right or wrong, just different."

As always, he seems to have pinpointed my real concern even before I could figure it out myself. I know that isn't the only thing bothering me, but when he says it, it rings true. I'm afraid that she's got it right, that hiding suffering in silence is somehow more… correct, more acceptable, than what I did, what I do, to cope. I've always justified my violent and volatile behavior with the trauma, but now she's experienced it too and she isn't like me. I wasn't sad or fearful when I processed what had happened, I was furious. My first intentional act was to track them down and make them pay. I've always been… hard, calculating, and good at getting what I want. Although I'd never admit it out loud, I've always been envious of those with more traditionally female dispositions, like my human friend Vera, like Alice now. Something in my mind still tells me that's who I should be, even if I know I can't.

"I know you're right, but it just doesn't feel that way. I was so angry, Emmett. I'm still so angry. I doubt she has an aggressive bone in her body. I bet whoever hurt her lived a full life and died of old age. I'm just not like that."

"I know, and I wouldn't want you any other way. This is you, Rose. This is the you that I love. You're aggressive and fierce and protective and hot as hell when you're like that. I wouldn't change anything about you, no matter how I act toward Alice. I feel like we should help her, but if I could take anything of her response and give it to you I wouldn't. I don't want you to be her, I want you exactly how you are. Don't you dare feel guilty about being who you are."

"I never thought I would need to hear that."

"I never thought I'd need to say that to you, you're always so sure."

"This has just shaken me, more than I'd even admitted to myself."

"I know." I slid back down to the ground and Emmett collects me again into his lap. I lay my head against his chest, taking a deep breath out of habit.

"Emmett, what do I do with her?"

"You protect her, just like you would any of the rest of us. You talk to her, let her know that you don't actually hate her. You're farther along on this than she is; help her see that it's worth letting someone in, that Jasper is worth the risk. She needs someone like him and he seems willing, he just needs her to give him a chance."

"He isn't like you. I don't trust him."

"That's progress. You care about her enough to worry if he's good for her. Watch them together, see what you think. I think he's really trying to be different for her, and if there is any reason strong enough to change, it's a mate."

"You really think that they're mates, Em? It seems so cruel a selection, fierce and violent Jasper with little broken Alice… it just feels wrong."

"If you watch them, though, it's there. He tries to tone down his nature not to scare her; she's braver around him than around the rest of us, I just think that's it. Edward says they think about each other constantly, they make their decisions based on the other, I don't know what else to think."

I store that away for later observation. I haven't seen much of their interaction, since the first day when he nearly broke her wrist I've been steering clear of them, sure that I'll break his face if I ever see anything like that again. I decide to change the topic, leaving that idea in my mind to consider.

"I said something to her today. I don't know if I should have."

He looks inquisitive and I can tell he's trying to guess my answer before I tell him, probably trying to brace himself to respond well if I said something awful to her, which I suppose I did.

"I told her that she needs to start eating or she's going to end up on a feeding tube. I know Carlisle's been thinking it, hell, everyone's been thinking it. I just don't know if I should have said it. I could tell she was thinking about it the rest of the hour. I just thought someone needs to say it so she knows what's going to happen if she doesn't stop on her own. It seems like whatever her reason for not eating, it won't be served well to have the vampire men of the house, doctors or not, pinning her down and forcing a tube down her throat, she should at least know what she's heading toward."

He's silent for a moment and his expression is carefully neutral. I can't tell how he feels about my revelation and it makes me a little nervous. I would defend my action to anyone, but only he has the ability to affirm it was right in my mind.

"Do you really think it's going to come to that?"

"Em, can't you see? It's already come to that. I know that you have a harder time telling size because everyone looks small to you, but she's way too thin. If she was human she wouldn't still be functioning at this point, and she isn't so very far from human. She won't last much longer like this."

I'm glad he's not mad at me. He doesn't have the medical degree or the comparison case studies so this is coming as more of a surprise to him, but I can tell that he isn't unhappy that I warned her. It's something that would never have occurred to Emmett. Sure, he heard me talking to Edward and Jasper about it yesterday, but I don't think it really made any sense to him. Honestly, I'm not sure it makes sense to me. I can sympathize with her not wanting to wake up, I've felt that, but I really don't think that's why she's doing this.

"So we just need to feed her more, will that work?"

I smile at my husband, his eagerness to help and pure intentions showing through. "Emmett, I wish it was that easy. She won't eat; she just plays with her food. Even at lunch today she didn't eat more than three bites in the whole hour. She's just really good at looking like she does. Something has to be different first, she has to feel safe around us; we have to figure out why she does it and help fix it."

"Rose?"

"Yeah?" I'm not sure why he interjects, but I have been wondering about the expression on his face, a sort of guarded hope, so I let him ask.

"You're saying 'we'."

He doesn't include his conclusion of my slip of sorts, only points it out to see what I intend.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Just checking."

I can't help but smile again; he's never the one to overanalyze things he knows I'm not ready to hear yet. I love this man.

"So, are you feeling a little better? What else is running through that pretty head of yours?"

"I don't know. I guess that's enough of the weak, sappy Rose for the day. You have anything on your mind?"

"I certainly have something on my mind, but it doesn't leave room for much _talking_…" he offers, giving me a chance to get in any last conversation I may feel the need to have before coherent thought is lost. I feel no such need, and turn myself in his lap, ending up straddling my incredible husband. I bring my lips to his, pouring every ounce of my adoration for him into the gesture. It couldn't have been anyone else; it has always had to be him.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

I can see that her eyes are getting heavy, she's fighting it, but she won't be awake much longer. I put down a card from one of the very same bright colored plastic and paper games I had refused earlier at Esme's offer. Something about Alice makes it different, in my defense. Alice makes everything different.

I still haven't asked about the end of her and Edward's conversation I heard. I'm hoping that she'll bring it up, if she's ready. I won't ask him, although I'm certainly tempted, especially because she'll soon move on and forget about it and my perfect recall will wonder forever, but I don't want to know if she isn't the one telling me. She asked him not to tell me, and that's the part that still gets me. I don't know how to take that, but I know that she still needs a lot of space to figure out her new surroundings. I can't blame her though; I'm still feeling more than a little off balance here too. I'm hoping that going out for a hunt tonight will help soothe my nerves from a long day of waiting at the house worrying about her. I know she'll be safe here with the others.

Edward overheard my plans earlier and has agreed to go along. He also heard my determination to try to make this work, my mind's perfect image of Alice's terror more than enough motivation to try harder. Only a few minutes ago Emmett and Rosalie reentered the house. She hasn't been inside the four walls for more than an hour or two with Alice since we arrived, so this is different. I hear Emmett volunteer to come hunting as well, citing his desire to get out some aggression on the nearest carnivore, but I suspect that he's going along to try to help keep me in check. I can't actually bring myself to be upset about that, however, because in truth there is little Edward could do to physically restrain me if the need arose, and Emmett is at least one for two on holding me down. I chose Edward for his logic and reminder of Alice, not for brute force. I have a better chance of not disappointing Alice if they both come, so I'm going to be fine with it.

"Okay, Alice, no more game for you. You have to get up in the morning and you're barely awake."

I can't help but smile as she tries to convince me in her soft, slurred voice that she's "not even that tired".

"Alice, do you mind if I pick you up? I'm afraid you're going to manage to fall _up_ the stairs."

"I 'spose" she mumbles.

"Okay, up to your room." I carefully scoop her up off her little circle chair, touching as little skin as I can manage. I shouldn't have worried, though, her head lolls slightly over my arm, she's hardly aware of her surroundings at this point. In just a few days she's already come so far. Being here was definitely good for her, just like she saw. When we were out on our own she would have never fallen asleep with me so close, she's much more relaxed here, even if she still has a long way to go. I sit down with her for a moment, pulling the bedding back with one hand and stabilizing her with the other. I pull off her shoes and carefully lay her down, covering her with the blankets. She stirs slightly and reaches blindly, her finger hooking into the neckline of my shirt and fists it in her hand.

"Where ya runnin' off ta, cowboy?" she asks, her voice still soft and slurred and her face in a pillow. It's adorable. I know I need to go, but I can't bring myself to leave yet and miss this.

"I'll be around, darlin', don't you worry. I'm going out with the boys tonight hunting, but they'll make sure I behave. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Mmkay I guess. Be good 'Sper." I don't know if the rest of my name got swallowed in the enormous fluffy pillow in her face or if that was all of it she could manage in her sleep deprived state, but either way it's adorable. It's instantly my favorite single use I've ever heard made of my name.

Before I can finish the thought she is well and truly asleep, her breathing evening and her hand relaxing, although her finger stay hooked in my collar. I gently untangle her tiny fingers from my now-wrinkled shirt and set her hand carefully next to her, under the thick blankets. She always acts cold; I pull the blankets up a little farther, just in case, and extricate myself from her addictive calm.

He manages to wait for me to clear the first level before he appears. Apparently he's been ready to go since he arrived at the house.

"You ready to leave yet? C'mon, we have to get going before all the good ones fall asleep and get boring to track."

I shake my head; Emmett is probably the strangest person I've ever met. Who else would worry about their prey falling asleep before they could get to it?

"Okay, I'm ready."

"Eddie! C'mon!" Emmett all but drags his brother to the back yard. For a moment he looked like he was thinking about doing the same with me, but one look at my face and he reconsiders. As soon as we were outside, we're off.

The wind in my face felt wonderful after a long day of being stuck inside. I suppose I could have gone out earlier, I just didn't want to be anywhere else in case she came back early. Now that she's safe in bed I can finally relax. We settle into a fast clip, running side by side. I've never hunted purposely with others, even when I had to feed the newborns I would hunt separately, alone. It's an odd concept, but probably less odd if hunting animals.

"So today wasn't too terrible for her, I gather?"

I'm afraid that they'll comment on my immediate topic shift, but they don't. Maybe they understand that I need this to take my mind off of the fact that I'm moving in the wrong direction right now, wrong because it is away from her.

"She did really well, Jasper. She even had to sit in front of me in a class and she made it through. I had it fixed for tomorrow, but she was fine for the whole hour."

"And the human that ran into her?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I saw it happening, but I knew too many people were watching to fix it and make it look natural."

"If there were that many people around, didn't it cause a scene? How did you get her out of there without you or anyone else touching her?"

He looks… uncomfortable. We're still running, so he can plausibly avoid eye contact for a few seconds at a time, but this is different. Whatever happened is making him unsure of what to say, he seems to be looking for words that won't set me off.

"I can feel your emotions, Edward. Just spit it out." I'm irritated with waiting for his diplomacy to work out the correct phrasing, I'm not going to lash out at him… unless he deserves it, and at that point no amount of proper verbiage is going to save him.

"The crowd did form fast, and the football coach is the one that knocked her over, he's big, so he was pushing through the crowd pretty fast trying to get to her, and I knew that he wouldn't listen if I told him he couldn't touch her. She was just lying there, really out of it, like how she was when you guys first got here and Rose freaked out at you, sort of dead to the world, and so I finally got her attention and permission to pick her up. It was none too soon, either. I still had to explain to the only teacher in the building who genuinely dislikes me that he couldn't be permitted to touch her, but it was easier when I was holding her and could stop him. It still scared her a bit, but it was better than any other options we had. Actually, on the car ride to school this morning she tried to work on desensitizing herself to me, in case it was necessary, and I think that helped. Of course she's still not anywhere near as comfortable with me as she is with you, she's getting relaxed enough that I can touch her enough to keep her out of harm's way, so hopefully that will go more smoothly from now on."

I'm not sure which part of this story he was trying to hide, but I'm glad that I've heard the rest of it now. I'm angry that she was hurt, if only for a few minutes, but pretty proud of her that she pulled it together enough to let Edward help her. We continue our run and the next few miles are covered in silence. I wonder how far we're going, but with all night ahead of us, I'm trying to relax. I want to know more about school, but most of the rest I've been able to pick up from conversations happening around the house. Surprisingly, it's Emmett who next breaks the silence.

"Did she seem… distracted… today after school?"

I hadn't noticed too much of a change in her after she got home, at least any more than I would have expected, but Edward shoots a knowing glare at Emmett and I know that I'm missing something.

"What are you talking about?"

Edward gives him a look that I can't entirely decipher, but I don't think I like. From his emotions I gather than Emmett understood the look but is willfully ignoring it.

"Rose may have said something to Alice today. It is probably true, and she probably needed to know, and Rose wasn't meaning to start anything, just trying to look after her…"

"Emmett…" Edward warns, but I imagine my expression cuts the rest of that sentence short. I want to hear what he has to say, and if Edward doesn't want him to speak he doesn't have to stay and listen. What the hell had Rosalie told Alice today? I know she dislikes me and I wonder if she told her some terrible fabrication about my past… or worse, some shred of the truth.

"It's nothing like that, Jasper. It's just something that Rose shouldn't have said that upset Alice."

"And it was?" I prompt, quickly losing interest, again, in his hedging.

"She told her that if she doesn't start eating then Carlisle's going to consider a feeding tube." Emmett's tone is matter of fact, ignoring his brother's irritated response.

I let the words sink in, trying to hear them from Alice's perspective.

"I'm assuming this upset her?" I ask, looking for something more to go on in my quest to find the same meaning that Alice derived from this information.

"She was terrified. She made it very clear that she would be unwilling to allow it, and then nearly had a panic attack trying to figure out if you would allow us to restrain her and place it, and if you would then if anyone else would stop it. I couldn't even reassure her, because if it gets much worse we're going to have to resort to that, but there was no reason for Rose to tell her now so she'll obsess about it. Even if she was going to tell her, at school right before she had two hours alone to think about it and then spring it on me on the car ride home was not the best time. I should have made her handle the conversation; she's the one who started this mess in the first place."

I try to process this, having been given more than I expected of Alice's reaction already. I assume that this is what they were talking about when they got home. I'm not sure what part of what she said was sworn to secrecy and I hope that this conversation isn't a breach of her trust, but it does help curb the guessing. She was concerned that I wouldn't stop them from restraining her and putting in a feeding tube. Would I?

For any other reason, the answer is obvious: of course I would. This, however, is different. There are at least two vampires in the building with medical degrees and they're saying that this is dangerous. What would I do to keep her safe, even from herself? Would I go so far as to allow her free will to be compromised to keep her alive? It comes back to my earlier question, if it came down to turning her against her will or letting her die, would I be able to let her go? Although I know it's selfish, the answer is the same. I couldn't. If it comes to that, I'll have to spend the rest of eternity earning her forgiveness, I can't live without her. I would let them do it, if that was the only way. If that's what it took to keep her alive, to ensure she is safe, I would allow it.

I don't know what to think about this realization. If it comes to that and I'm forced to decide, will I lose her when she is strong enough to be taken off? Will she ever speak to me again when she realizes that I let it happen? The possibility makes me miserable to think about, but I would even live without her next to me if I knew that she was alive and well somewhere. The weight of this decision isn't lost on me. I wonder if the restraints would feel familiar, if she's been restrained before. I wonder if _he_ ever did anything like that to her, and I can barely stand the thought. This is a terrible idea, but I can't live without her.

So, there it is! Chapter 30! 31 Should be up before too long, and although it's a bit of a filler chapter, it's important to get a good look at what is going on with the parties involved :)

Don't forget- oneshot! So far my only vote has been Jasper POV and some form of non-fluff angst… so if you agree, disagree, or want to suggest specifics, click the button and let me know!

Thank you in advance! Love you all!


	31. Walls come down

So, we've arrived! Rosalie _really_ needed to say some things, so this chapter ended up being just her. To make up for it you'll hear from both Alice and Jasper next chapter, but this just needed to be said first :)

Also, this is the last chapter before I'll be writing and posting the oneshot, so make sure to leave a review with your vote! The three nominations will be found at the end, so don't forget!

I love you all! Thanks for sticking with me :)

A special thank you to my two anonymous reviewers, one of whom now has an account here so I can reply to reviews :) I love you!

Chapter 31

*_*_*_*_Rosalie*_*_*_*_*

Nearly as soon as we arrive, Emmett leaves to go hunting with "the boys". Although Jasper may not have been the brother he'd expected, it still means that the 'sons' in the family are now plural without counting Emmett, so he's wearing out the new concept. Although Emmett has put my mind to rest a little about my comment to Alice, I'm still secretly unsure. I consider discussing it with Carlisle, but even though I can hear that Alice is asleep, it still just doesn't feel right.

I can hear the quiet hum of hushed voices as Esme and Carlisle discuss their days, an intimate ritual they have carried on for as long as I can remember. After working all day, they are reunited and sit up in their room, speaking softly and sharing their experiences over their time separated. It is such typical perfect couple behavior that I can't ever see myself falling into the routine, but for them it is essential.

I try to focus on a forms of entertainment, but find myself either unconsciously trying to listen to their conversation or ridiculously aware of every beat of Alice's heart and every intake of her breath, the only other sound in the house. As I'm not trying to feed either of those fascinations, I head out to the garage, my solace.

I start each of the vehicles, listening to the inner workings and heading off any forthcoming issues, and then turning it off and moving to the next. The jeep will need new brake pads in another few hundred miles, but there is no reason to wait, so I replace them. Edward's bike needs new oil, the current batch having been sitting in it a while too long. I glance at the clock, seeing that I've managed to fill only an hour of the night. I take my time, wandering back through and listening again for anything out of order. If I've ever met Edward or Emmett, I can almost guarantee this outing isn't going to be quick, so I imagine I still have a long time to kill.

I take one last breath of my sanctuary before I leave. Strong scents are usually unpleasant to our kind, but the harsh metallic smell of the cars punctuated by synthetic oil and gasoline is like incense to me. The tinge of carbon dioxide in the air from my work today is harsh and strangely comforting. In this world, everything works how it should. There is nothing that cannot be explained, nothing that cannot be anticipated. This is my kingdom, and it is finite, predictable and controllable.

I send one last, longing glance at the sea of metal and glass before turning off the light and returning to the living room. I keep walking, knowing that Esme will kill me if I sit down on her light colored living room set looking like this. I may clean the garage nearly as thoroughly as she does the kitchen, but that only covers the room, there's only so much I can do about the cars and their internal workings, so my clothing always ends up a little worse for wear for my ventures into my sanctuary.

I head up the stairs and try to ignore anything from Alice, even as I walk directly past her room. I make it to Em's and my room without incident and quickly pull out of my clothing, walking into the bathroom and cleaning up quickly. The water is strangely refreshing, an acquired taste in the years since I'd been changed. Bathing was much less pleasant and convenient in my time, so although nearly unnecessary now, I still enjoy the charade. I turn off the water and run a towel through my hair, the rest of my body drying quickly as the water finds no purchase on my marble skin. I let my hair alone to dry, having all night to fix it before tomorrow. I step out of the bathroom and into the attached closet.

For some reason I feel no compulsion to dress in my school clothes yet. Although different clothing brings very little change in our comfort, as all fabric fells about equally unpleasant in the scheme of things, I feel the need to at least go through the motions. I put on a long dress, nearly a robe, intended to be soft and warm. Although I know that it is neither of those things on me, it still feels like it should bring comfort, so it does. My hair is still down and a little disheveled, but I don't intend to see anyone around the house for a little while, and I'm enjoying my moment to myself. It feels good to shun social convention and the latest fads, if only for an hour.

I walk slowly, particularly slowly for our kind, back toward the main level of the house, trying to decide on my next course of action. Most of my daily rituals involve Emmett in some way; we're rarely separated for long. I hadn't realized our daily existence has become so intertwined.

I hardly notice that my feet have taken me there, but when I register my location I know that it was, indeed, intentional. I'm standing outside her room. I'm not sure what possesses me, but curiosity is relentless. I push open the door, silently, and enter. I can still hear the quiet hum of my parent's conversation, so I doubt they are paying much attention. Something feels a bit off, but I can't place if this is my unfamiliarity with the concept of sleep, the oddities that are uniquely Alice, or if something is actually different. Although my misgivings about Jasper are founded, I've been impressed with his patience, sitting there with her while she is just laying there sleeping seems unreasonably dull to me, but still, something draws me.

I take the last step around the corner entry and take in the sight before me. I feel as though I've sent myself on some sort of strange research, what is sleeping like? I don't remember anymore. I don't really think any of us do.

As soon as she comes into sight I begin to wonder if this is what sleeping _should_ look like. I don't have a basis for comparison, but isn't sleep usually described as… peaceful? She hardly looks peaceful. The expression on her face is troubled, even though her breathing is perfectly even. She shifts slightly in her sleep, her arm so tangled in the sheets that it doesn't move with her, pinned as it is at an awkward looking angle beside her.

I hear a whisper in her sigh, the quietest spoken word under her breath, the name carrying affection and despair as if they were hardly unrelated. I have no idea who Cynthia is, but I wonder how she is significant to Alice. I've never hear her speak of anything before being here, anyone before us. I guess, more accurately, I haven't heard anything from the rest of my family of her speaking about before. I can't say I've exactly been around recently.

I cautiously move closer, until I'm sitting on the side of the bed. I don't really know how I got here, but I figure that I can at least try to untangle her arm, while I'm in here anyway. The fabric is so tightly wound around her that the skin is turning white, almost as light as my own, which can't be a good sign.

I try to lift her arm slowly, careful to keep my cold hands away from her burning skin as much as possible. After a few impressive maneuvers, I manage to free her from her restraint. I watch in morbid fascination as the blood rushes back into her hand, each capillary expanding and allowing the warmth and pink tinge to return. I hadn't really noticed her scent before, but it's incredible, so unique. I stop breathing, just in case, but I can't stop staring at the incredible feat of life unfolding under my dead fingertips.

She shivers, just slightly, and I carefully tuck her fascinating hand back under the warm covers, in case my skin is giving her that chill. I feel oddly protective of her sleeping form, as if in this moment I can finally permit her to be as fragile as she has always been. Here, defenseless and asleep, none of her vulnerability can be calculated or manipulating, it is simply fact.

It's sort of captivating; in the same way that one admires an intricate chalk drawing, an elaborate house of cards, a complex snowflake falling toward a warm windshield, or a sunset steadily giving way to darkness. Part of its beauty is in its impermanence, its absolute susceptibility. In the same way, I feel a pull to protect the house of cards for as long as possible, as if defying the myriad of forces that should tear it down somehow validates the impossible and gives hope to other of lives' improbabilities.

I'm still not sure about Alice the person, but I'm warming up to Alice the idea, maybe even Alice the cause. I sit back against the wide headboard, willing to admit the strangeness of the situation, but unwilling to question it further. Alice is still asleep, although the grimace on her face has deepened and she's started to whimper occasionally, almost too softly to distinguish from her natural breathing. I wonder what she dreams about when she's asleep and I can't help but weigh the concept. Would I choose to be able to sleep, if I had been given the choice? Would I trade tirelessness for the respite of having that exhaustion relieved? Would it be worth relinquishing control of my mind to be able to dream? Would it be worth the possibility of nightmares that I couldn't control to discover dreams I can't fathom while awake?

I honestly don't know. It's hard to say I envy it, surveying the fitful expression on Alice's face, but I will admit its romanticism in theory.

She shifts again and I can feel the heat of her body radiating from the blankets. I can't tell if she's feverish or if my cold skin would be uncomfortable, so I keep my distance. I'm not normally close to humans, but even from a desk's distance away I can tell that they aren't usually _this_ warm. She shifts in her sleep again, this time to face me, and her breathing falters, only for a second, and then her eyes open. I hadn't been expecting her to awaken so suddenly, so I have no idea how to react. What will she think of waking to find me right here? I've barely even seen her since she came, it's not like we've been close, and how do explain what I'm doing here, I don't even know. I wait for her to make the first move, hoping that it will give me some hint as to my own next move. For almost a full minute, we simply stay there, staring at one another, shock still painted across her features while mine are held at careful neutral. Finally, she speaks. It doesn't help me at all.

"Cynthia?"

Now what? Do I respond? Correct her? Should I even say anything, is she even awake? Before I can make a decision, she continues without my response.

"You grew up to be so beautiful, Cynth, just like mom. I never understood why you and her had such beautiful light features and I ended up so dark. I guess we figured it out in the end, didn't we?"

I'm not sure that any response is necessary, and to test my theory I simply stare back noncommittally. Sure enough, she continues. I'm still unconvinced she's actually awake.

"I just had the most terrible dream, Cynth, and I wish I could take back leaving you like that. You didn't deserve for dad and me to just take off like that, but it was to keep you and mom safe. He was tracking me, and dad was trying to keep me away from him and away from you both. I never meant to leave you alone if Charles ever came back. I never considered rather or not mom would allow him back into your life, I just assumed… hoped… that you'd never see him again. Please, Cynthia, please tell me that he never hurt you, that you never saw him again and lived a long, happy life without dad and me?"

I'm thinking that about now would be a good time to have had my mind made up as to whether I was planning on speaking, and if so what I was planning on saying. She obviously thinks that I'm her sister, probably because she's still disoriented from her dream. However, I have the unfortunate disadvantage of not being privy to her dream, meaning I'm in the dark here.

I assume she dreamt that the man who hurt her came back for her sister, in which case I'm not sure what I can say right now. I have no idea what happened or didn't happen to her human sister and I'm reluctant to guess and potentially lie about it. I'm not usually one to simply say things because they make people feel better, but I find myself wanting to reassure her. Even if I am wrong on what happened to this Cynthia, there is nothing she can do about it now, and worrying about it or feeling guilty isn't going to do anything positive to help her or her sister now.

"Of course not, Alice. He never came back."

She narrows her eyes slightly, but it doesn't register elsewhere on her features. It's as if she isn't aware of her own skepticism, but something is definitely giving her pause. Did I say something wrong? Probably, but whatever it is, it's pushed aside as she begins to fall back asleep, her conscience assuaged by my guess at what she needed to hear.

She drifts back out of consciousness, but for some reason I stay. I don't know if she will remember waking later, I hope that she will assume it to be a dream, although the likelihood is definitely reduced if I stay here until she awakens again. I can't think of a single, logical reason why I should stay, but I'm still here. I feel as though I should, just in case, until Jasper comes back, although I can't say I have any idea why.

Before I know it, her breathing is picking up again. Does this girl ever really sleep? What she's doing now certainly shouldn't be counted. She's whimpering again, under her breath, and she subconsciously turns her face into her pillow as the sounds get louder. I can't tell if she's looking for comfort or trying to muffle the sound, but as I'm fairly sure she's still asleep, I'm guessing the former. I tentatively reach toward her, stopping just short of touching her short, black hair. I remember, vaguely, Vera running her fingers through her child's hair in a comforting motion, and it seemed to work.

I decide to at least try. I carefully begin stroking her short, unruly hair, hoping that my instincts are correct. The whimpering quiets a little, but her breathing is still irregular, closer to sobs than a slow, steady rhythm. I think she may be having another nightmare, but I don't know what to do to help, so I keep playing with her hair, hoping that isn't making it worse, and wait to see what happens next.

Her motions are becoming more and more erratic and far reaching. I had to catch her hand earlier before it swung out and hit my face, which would have undoubtedly caused her harm at its velocity. At one point she nearly threw herself off the side of the bed in her desperation to get away from some unseen terror. I managed to catch the blanket and reel her back in without actually touching her, which I deemed to be a safer route. I'm starting to think that it would be unsafe to let her sleep unsupervised, I don't think there should usually be this much intervention involved.

Finally, when she started back in on the whimpering full force, I decided that there is no way she's getting _more_ rested in this state, so I stilled her motions with my arm, calling her name quietly, but close to her ear so she would hear me. After the last hour, I have solidly made my decision of rather or not I'd choose to be able to sleep, if given the option- most certainly not.

She attempts to pull away before she even gets her eyes open, but I hold her steady. Until I'm sure she's awake and aware of her surroundings I'm not going to let her throw herself off the side of the bed again.

When she realizes she can't move, she's instantly awake. A scream forms on her lips before she even gets her eyes open, but it dies there as she realizes where she is… and with whom.

"Cynth- Rosalie?" Her eyes focus on me and she starts her sister's name again before catching herself. I search her expression for acknowledgement of our previous conversation under that name, but find none. "What are you doing here?" Her tone is guarded, she obviously didn't expect to wake up and find me here- hell, I didn't expect to see me here, so that's fair- but I don't see any of the fear or mistrust always present in her interactions with Emmett and Edward.

Her question brings me back to the present, why am I here? After seeing how violent her version of sleep really is, the correct answer is probably to protect her from herself, but that doesn't explain why I am here in the first place, or why it's me instead of Esme or Carlisle. Well, maybe not Carlisle. If I regret what I said to her, it's probably for him. I shouldn't have said it in connection to him; she already has a stronger suspicion toward him than any of the rest of us. I should really apologize to him, as I may have ruined any chance of her trusting him in the near future. But I still don't have an answer for her, so I decide to keep it simple.

"Jasper is still out hunting, I'm making sure you're fine while he's gone."

She looks confused still, but less cautious; probably a good sign.

"He asked you to come up and sit with me while I was asleep?"

Well damn, she caught me there.

"Not exactly, I just wanted to make sure."

"Well… thank you, I guess. I think I'll stay awake now, so you don't have to be bothered anymore."

"Do you want to talk about them?"

I try to avoid her attempts to brush me off with my normal, all-business tone, but she seems unimpressed. It's as if she sees right through me, as if any words I speak will tell her the truth, rather I intend for them to or not.

She shakes her head and moves to sit up, as if the action will convince me that she really doesn't need me to stay.

"Is it because of him?"

She freezes mid movement, and her eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?" Although I'm not great at reading people in general, I have a sense for wounded women, and I see through her defensiveness.

"All of it. The scarecrow act, the jumpiness, not touching people, the nightmares, is it because of him, or does it predate him?"

"Jasper has never hurt me, Rosalie-"

I cut her off there, because I don't like it when I'm lied to. "That is not true, and you know it. I watched him nearly break your wrist the day you came, heard the tendons crush. The scar on your neck, the one the boys went and had a tree-throwing contest about, that's from him too. He bit you before you came here."

Her insistence is much more forceful this time, and my eyes narrow at her tone. "It's not like that, Rosalie."

"Then please, Alice, enlighten me. What is it _like_?" I can't help the sneer that forms on my lips; she's defending him, which doesn't help either of their cases in my book.

"He didn't mean to hurt me. He's been much better; he just isn't used to having to be so careful. Most of this has nothing to do with him, he just happens to be the first willing to put up with it and get close to me."

Somehow I think the reverse is probably true, I don't peg Alice as someone who easily lets others in, but I believe her if she says it came before him. However that doesn't let him off the hook. He's still been less than helpful in her recovery.

Although she's still spouting suspiciously cliché things, I've decided to let it rest for now. However uncomfortable she makes me, I don't want either her or Jasper to hate me. Well, I guess I truthfully don't care about the last part, but I don't want her to hate me.

"So who was it, if not him?"

"Someone I knew a long time ago, long dead by now, I'm sure." Although I think I already had some idea of the answer, given her conversation with "Cynthia" earlier, I still want to hear her take on it. If he really was human and is now gone, why is she still so messed up?

"But his legacy lives on, huh?"

I can tell that this irritates her, but she doesn't lash out. How can she keep this all inside? It can't be good for her. I decide to make it my mission in my immediate future to get her to let go and just scream at me at least once, it would be good for her, I think.

"Are you here for a reason, Rosalie?"

Her tone is cold and I can tell that I've pushed her as far as she's going to allow for now. I'm going to have to work my way up to the meltdown I'm hoping for. For now, she's given me the perfect opening, and it's now or never. I know that if I don't level with her now, in these first couple days with the perfect opportunity presented, I'm not going to do it ever. She'll never give me the time of day with the sort of things I'm prone to say to her unless she knows the truth, although she may not either way. That thought alone almost halts my words before they form, but I know that I have to take that chance. I'm not a child; I can handle rejection, even in such an acute form. I will only allow myself one breath to explain, knowing that if I pause for any reason I won't go through with it.

"Yeah, I am. I'm here because if Carlisle had left me on the ground that night, I would be a nightmare in my parents' minds rather than alive and talking to you. I was turned because my seemingly perfect fiancé was drinking too much with his buddies one night. I was walking home alone when I ran into them, and they raped me and left me for dead."

This is clearly not the response she was expecting, and I can tell that I caught her enough off guard that she isn't censoring her reaction. She looks… devastated. I wonder if she'd precluded the idea that anyone else could experience something similar, a coping mechanism of sorts. She doesn't seem defensive of her injury, creating differences and nuances between us, but she also isn't moving away in disgust or admonishment.

I reach for her tentatively, and she allows me to pull her up next to me. Her features have softened back to resignation and she leans her head against my stone shoulder, as if she's run out of energy and needs my support to stay vertical at all.

When she finally speaks, her voice is nearly silent. "Rosalie, why are you telling me this?"

"Because I think you deserve to know. I've been avoiding you so I don't have to deal with it, but I realized that I'm making a choice for both of us when I choose to stay away, and you've had enough choices made for you in your lifetime." Although I'm speaking the truth, it's sounding a little too touchy-feely for my tastes, and I'm afraid she's going to get the wrong idea. I may know what she's gone through, but that doesn't mean I'm easy to get along with. I feel the need to at least remind her of her options. "If you want me to keep leaving you alone I will. In fact, that would probably be easier for both of us, but if you want me to stick around you're going to get me when you like it and when you don't, so consider carefully."

Unsurprisingly, she seems to do just that. I know that she survived on secrecy and invisibility until she came here, and she's weighing the options between the safe isolation and letting someone who knows too much, too close. I had the same internal debate with Emmett, but I can't see him having won it if he'd gone through something similar or wasn't my mate, which was really what swayed me in the end. I know she's been through a lot, but I can't imagine her giving any of that up now for someone she just met. I wouldn't, if I were her. Maybe that's the real reason I'm offering, because I know she won't accept, so I won't feel obligated to care anymore. Am I really that shallow and predictable? Yes, I think I am.

We sit in silence for a long time, her considering my words and me clearing my mind, trying to relax. It occurs to me when I catch sight of the hands of the clock that it's still the middle of the night and she should probably be asleep. It probably would have been better to have this conversation another time, maybe during daylight hours, but I don't know if I would have gotten her away from Jasper at any other point, so I guess it's good that it was now.

I hear her breathing begin to slow again. I should have known that she would fall back asleep; it is the middle of the night and all. I move to shift her back to the bed and leave, but before I can even get off the bed I hear her voice, soft with sleep.

"Rosalie?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you stay?" I hardly consider myself comforting, and hell, I don't even want to be around me when I'm upset, so I find this request odd.

"Is that your answer?" I ask, cautiously. I don't know if I'd consider it final in any case, as she's half out of it, but I wonder what she's thinking.

"No. I still don't know. But will you stay for now anyway?"

I sit back down, bracing her with my side again and lean my head back, preparing for the long night ahead, alone with my thoughts until Jasper returns and chews me out for being in here with her.

So, here we are! What do you think about Rosalie's big debut? Good? Bad? Not her?

Also, here are the three nominations so far for the oneshot. You should pick which one you're voting for and then tell me what exactly you'd like to see :)

1. Jasper- serious

2. Emmett- fluff

3. Alice/Jasper fluff

Love you all! Go vote! :)


	32. Night Minds

So… it's been forever. I'm so sorry.

And… to make it worse, although this chapter is long, it's a bit of a filler chapter…

I've been really unmotivated and I just can't seem to snap out of it, hopefully hearing all of your beautiful voices will be just the trick to pull me out of this!

**Chapter 32 **

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

I dreamt of Cynthia tonight, for the first time in almost a year. Time passes so erratically when you have forever ahead of you and an ever lengthening road behind you. I dreamed that when Dad and I left, he came back for her. My mother didn't even stop him from walking back into their lives; she let him be the substitute father to her that I thought he was to me. He earned their trust again, just like he had mine, and then, when she wasn't suspecting anything, he hurt her like he would have hurt me.

The dream was terrible, but about what I've come to expect from my nightmares- sick and twisted. What _was_ different was the conversation I had with her in my dream, she was all grown up and beautiful, just like my mother, with her blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. She told me that he never hurt her, and I don't know why, but it makes me feel better. Even though I know that there is no possible way to know that, my subconscious trying to convince me has to be something, right? The strangest part about the whole thing was that when I awoke, Rosalie, of all people, was with me. I thought she was Cynthia again, for just a minute. I thought I was still dreaming.

I haven't really seen her at the house since we came, and I don't know if she is usually gone or if she's just avoiding me, but I've gathered from comments I've overheard that this is unusual behavior, so I've come to assume the latter. So now, when she shows up in my room in the middle of the night while Jasper is gone, honestly my first thought is that the woman has arrived to off me in my sleep. I mean, she doesn't like me and she isn't attached to Jasper, what would stop her?

As soon as I get around to figuring out the right name in my mind and asking her why she's here, she just plays it off like every random vampire likes staring at me asleep as much as Jasper seems to, which is a creepy concept in and of itself. She even admits to not being put up to it by Jasper, which means whatever reason she's here, it's of her own volition, which fits into my wild theory of assassination attempt, although I highly doubt vampires merely "attempt" such things.

I offer to stay awake, in case Jasper (or one of the others) really did put her up to it and she just doesn't want to admit it, but that doesn't seem to dissuade her either. She just sits there like it's perfectly normal for her to be hanging out in my room while I'm trying to go to sleep.

Before I even get a chance to think about how strange she's acting, she asks if I want to talk about my dreams. What does she think? Why in the world would I want to talk about any of this, it's not like she's going to relate. Normal people don't worry about their long dead relatives being attacked by their long dead would-be abusers. In fact, there is nothing remotely relatable about my situation, so I try to ignore the question, hoping it will go away.

Of course, in true Rosalie fashion, this only causes her to disregard my lack of response and ask a harder question; so much for dodging the bullet… she wants to know if they're of him. At first I'm not sure which him, but when I ask for clarification I recognize the narrowing of her eyes and interpret that to mean Jasper.

When she fights with me about him hurting me, something in my mind ignites and I find myself suddenly sure. He would never purposely hurt me. Her insistence feels like the highest form of blasphemy to my ears, as if she were telling me that Nathan killed my father or Charles was actually a good man. I feel the need to defend him that desperately. I know that he's made mistakes, plenty before me and his fair share since, but I know that he doesn't want to hurt me. If he had wanted to, he would have had plenty of opportunity. He let me bring us here, where we aren't alone, and I know that he's doing his best to overcome who he's been. The last thing he needs is Rosalie's ignorant suspicion and accusations, and I feel strangely compelled to ensure that she's set straight on that point.

It doesn't go well, of course. Rosalie is much more articulate than I am, so I know that something I said must have satisfied her, because there is no chance that my defensive ramblings won her over. I decide that I need to stick to my tried-and-true strategy of keeping out of these sorts of discussions. When she makes the comment about Charles' legacy living on, referring to me, that solidifies it. I've had about enough of her pushing, and if she has no reason to be here, I have no reason to let her. I may not be eloquent, and I'm not even good at blunt, but I can occasionally fake that, if needed, and I think now just might just be one of those times.

"Are you here for a reason, Rosalie?"

To say that Rose's confession caught by surprise would be an understatement. One moment she's practically taunting me and the next she just lays out her scars like they're casual conversation. The thing is, I can see that they aren't. I doubt she's told more than a few others in her lifetime, I can see it in her eyes, though her tone gives nothing away. This isn't a conversation she's used to having, and so I'm even more confused. I can see that this isn't as spontaneous as she wants me to believe that it is, but why would she be planning on telling me this? Why would she ever choose to tell me if she didn't have to? Isn't she afraid that I'll look at her differently or not believe her? Doesn't she know that it's dangerous to let others see where you've been hurt?

Her honesty is uncomfortable. It's as though she's willing to show me something, but I'm too afraid, for her, to look. I do my best not to think about it, as if averting my eyes will give her back the secrecy she has foolishly tried to give away, but it doesn't allow me to unlearn what she shouldn't have told me.

I can't seem to figure out Rosalie, and I think that's why I asked her to stay. I make each move based on the actions and reactions I expect from those around me. It may be narcissistic of me, and it certainly requires a measure of cynicism, but I'm usually right. Some combination of tracing decisions backwards that I used to see in my visions and just watching people over the years has taught me well. I figure out what action would be best received before I choose, which allows my pessimism more credibility than it could otherwise enjoy, as I often find what I'm looking for. With Rose, however, it's different. I don't know what she's going to do next, and it throws me off. I tell myself that I want to keep her close in order to neutralize her more unpredictable behavior, but really I think I just want someone to prove me wrong. I'm almost willing to believe that she'll act differently than what I expect from everyone else, and maybe part of that could even be good.

I thought the last thing I'd ever want would be to have someone with access to me at all times, with the ability to mess with me. I was wrong. The last thing I want is to be so surrounded by people who might be willing to let me in and still be alone. It might actually be worth the risk of Rosalie meddling where I don't want her to know that she might be there when I do want her there. I know that if I accept her offer I can't expect to be able to set up boundaries, her veto option is her way of giving me a choice, if I let her in it will be on her terms.

Maybe I'm less afraid of the idea because of her brash confession. I would never consider this with anyone else, but I'm considering her offer. Maybe she could help me. Maybe with her help I could figure out what to do with all of this. I've never considered that after all of this time I might actually be able to change, to figure out how to deal with any of this, to put it behind me. Maybe the risk of allowing her access to me would be worth being able to go to her if I really needed it. I wouldn't be able to tell her what happened, Jasper is already too close to the truth for my comfort and Edward practically sees it when I lose touch of reality during panic attacks, I'm not really looking to expand that club, but I could at least hear what she has to say. She's obviously made inferences about my past that included the decision to tell me her story, so maybe she could help me without making me talk to her about what happened. Maybe I'll let her in.

I try to relax, to go back to sleep, but as soon as I let me guard down I feel the familiar itch at the edge of my consciousness. Ever since Jasper told me about the nomads earlier, visions have been tugging at me almost constantly. I know that it's related, but I don't want to know how. I don't take my chances with big picture visions anymore. I simply don't want to know. Whatever it is, I'll face it like anyone else would have to; when it comes.

It's much later than I thought and I really should be getting back to sleep, but unconsciousness is never so far away as when you try to give chase. I wonder if Jasper is coming back soon. Without his creepy emotion-suppressor, he's actually pretty calming to fall asleep next to. Admittedly, he would probably be more so if he actually slept, but I have to take what I can get.

Surprisingly, when I finally manage to drift off, Jasper has still not returned. Even more surprisingly, I don't dream.

*_*_*_*_Edward*_*_*_*_*

Shockingly, we've managed to keep him out of the house and relatively well occupied for a few hours. He's been fed nearly his own body weight in different animals, partially at Emmett's insistence that he "sample the whole buffet" before he chose a favorite meal, and mostly because of my own concern for him slipping later if he doesn't. I can't think of a situation that would lead him across humans at the house, but he is around Alice who is at least a little human, and you never know when the occasional mailman or neighbor might stop by.

His thoughts have been pretty evenly split for the night, about half are generally on Alice, concerns and questions, mainly, and the other half circle around questions about the nomads and keeping Alice safe. I think he wants to bring up the topic with Emmett and me, but I doubt he wants me to pick it out of his mind without permission, so I'm waiting for him to bring it up. Although I still don't fully understand what draws them together, I have to respect the intense dedication of the bond between mates. Jasper wouldn't be caught dead here with us hunting animals under any other circumstances, I'm sure of it. Just one look from Alice and he regrets his slip up the other day, even though he felt no remorse at the time. She's changing him, an impossible feat for our kind. Even Rosalie is warming up to her, a fact I've gleaned from Emmett's thoughts, which is almost as surprising as her affecting Jasper. _Nothing _affects my sister. No one gets past her defenses easily, and Emmett is the only one allowed to witness the darkness her past still holds over her, yet she's considering letting Alice in. Somehow, this tiny little girl exerts a nearly gravitational pull to those around her; she has my whole family captivated.

Although our current perch was chosen to stake out the _perfect_ snow leopard for Jasper to try, I think we've both tired of his quest for the moment, so Emmett is scouting leopards, but we are lost in our thoughts, mine a little more exclusive than his. I can't help but wonder if his concerns about the nomads are his overactive protectiveness or a real threat. Alice has a feeling of… almost destiny, about them, but really, what could possibly go so wrong? Or is it what could go right? Will we be having more additions so soon to the family? I would never have asked this last month when we started spotting strange disappearances, but we never saw Jasper and Alice coming, either. I doubt they'll be willing to consider our lifestyle given their sloppy hunting choices. If they are, will the Volturi come after us if we take them in? We've met other of our kind before and it hasn't been a big deal, why would this time be different? Does having Alice here really change that much, or is Jasper just being… Jasper, about Alice? Maybe this is just a well timed distraction from Alice's eating issues; it might not even be that serious to him, just something that he can control about Alice's safety. I can't hear that in his thoughts, but I doubt it would be something that he admitted to himself, if it were true.

I hear his decision to speak only a second before he does so, so I don't have to focus as much as usual on not responding before I should.

"The nomads could be here as soon as tomorrow, assuming they travel as they have been. They've been covering more ground than usual lately, but it's unlikely that they'll be here before then. I want to keep Alice as far from them as possible, if there is any contact."

"Yeah, sure thing."

I'm not sure if Emmett is trying to make light of the situation for Jasper's benefit, but when I listen in to his thoughts I see that he actually is just that absorbed in calculating the pros and cons of each of the two dozen predators below. I realize that I need to keep the conversation going if it's going to continue, Jasper wants our attention but he won't speak to get it unless one of us engages him at least a little.

"Do you think there will be trouble?"

"I don't know. They don't seem to be headed anywhere in particular, and they're certainly not traveling stealthily, so maybe not. Unfortunately, boredom could be almost as dangerous, there is plenty strange enough about your existence to intrigue them for a while. I'm hoping they don't ask to stay, both because of their careless hunting and Alice's safety. She's probably the most interesting of everything around your family, and I don't want them to get any ideas about her."

"Should we skip school? I know you told her she could go, but if you think it would be safer to be in the house I'm sure we could arrange something?"

Emmett finally steps reluctantly away from the clearing he's been watching out of, resigned that this is a serious conversation he has to give his attention and not just a fleeting comment.

"I don't know if that will help. They've been traveling in the day, another careless mistake, and so if they arrive they're more likely to seek out the house than the school crowded with humans. Maybe they'll come while you guys are away, which would really be the best case scenario. Even if they smell her around the house, they'll just assume it's a human unless they've encountered one of her kind before, which is extremely unlikely. They'll sate their curiosity speaking with Esme and I and we can get a message to the school not to bring Alice home yet. All in all, that's probably the best we could hope for."

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

By the time we finally make it back to the house, it's nearing sunrise. I can't believe I let them keep me away nearly all night, but I admit that I feel a lot better about the whole 'hunting animals' thing now. I can't say that I won't hunt humans again, I'm sure I will, but I'm starting to think that it's at least possible.

I'm also glad to have had the chance to speak with the two of them without Alice around, both about her and about the nomads. I know Carlisle has mentioned in general that they were coming, but I'm glad I was given the information today; they're much closer than he thought. They've been a slight bit more careful lately, which is why he missed their movement.

When we come into sight of the house, I barely slow down to open the door gently enough to keep it on its hinges. As soon as I reach the door to her room, I realize that she's not alone and I throw myself into the room on instinct, not immediately recognizing the scent, only sick with fear that I left her alone when she needed me.

I skid to a stop a few feet from her bed, unable to process what I'm seeing. Alice is in her bed, asleep, but with her is Rosalie, the last person I expected to find. What is she doing here? Did Alice want her here? Why? Does Alice even know she's here? Is she going to flip out when she wakes up? Did she already wake up and realize I wasn't back yet?

She's lying with her head on Rosalie's lap, her arm wrapped around to rest on her knee, next to her face. I'm not really sure what to think as I watch Rosalie slowly run her fingers through her hair. It's like I stepped back into the wrong movie set, what is going on here?

"Rosalie. I didn't expect you to be here. Is everything alright?"

She tosses her hair behind her defiantly and looks me evenly in the eyes, as if daring me to question her presence. "Yes. Everything is fine."

Apparently she isn't going to give me any more than I ask for, so I'm going to have to either be more specific or give up and accept it without asking. Giving up has never really been in my nature.

"Why are you in here? Does she know you're here?"

She gives me an incredulous look and for a moment I think she has no intention of answering my question, but then she speaks again. "Yes, she knows I'm here, Jasper. You think I just snuck in to surprise her? She asked me to stay."

This is an interesting piece of information, why did Alice ask her to stay? Isn't she afraid of her, too? She's barely met her. Would she really ask for Rosalie? Did she wake up and get upset that I was still gone? I shouldn't have let them keep me out so long.

"Was she upset when she woke up?" I hedge my questions carefully, not wanting to offend her and have her stomp off mid conversation like last time.

"No. She was having a bad dream, but she was fine. I think that's why she asked me to stay, though. She's seemed peaceful since then."

"How can she be fine being close to you? You barely know her and her first impression of you was to be terrified."

I'm realizing now how offensive that might sound; I hope she doesn't take that too seriously.

"How do you think, idiot? I'm not the threat to her that you are. I bet she's been through much worse than what I could do to her."

And there it is, again. She seems to have no trouble spelling it out for me, and I'm not sure if I should be thankful, even though it makes me cringe every time. Maybe I need the reminder.

If she is here and safe, I really shouldn't begrudge her who she chooses to be here. I nod to Rosalie and turn to leave, there is really no reason for both of us to be here with her, and I don't know what I would say to Rosalie.

"Wait." Her tone isn't demanding or even curious, it's more of a disinterested option, as if she doesn't care at all either way, but I could wait, if I wanted.

I turn, but don't step back into the room. I don't know what she wants, but I'm not going to play this game with her. She can tell me what she wants to or I can leave, it's all the same to me.

"Why are you here, Jasper?"

At least I don't have to wait for her to get to the point. I hear the nonchalance in her voice even as I feel the intensity of her emotions behind it, her guardedness and suspicion probably should offend me, but I think the combination is mainly born of protectiveness toward Alice, and I can't afford to get all 'caveman' on her. If someone else is willing to watch out for her, I can't afford to be picky about whom.

"Where, Rosalie? In this room, in the house, with Alice? What is the question?" I'm not being difficult with her, I really am curious about which she's asking.

"Why are you anywhere with her? Your scars, you've been at war, around newborns, killed casually. I wouldn't want Emmett around you if he met you on the street, what are you doing with Alice?"

Hearing only her words, it would be easy to overreact, but I have to remind myself that this is for Alice. Her emotions are fearful, protective, not aggressive. I need to focus on what she's really saying, not get offended and build up more walls. She could be good for Alice; I need to not mess that up.

"I wonder too, Rosalie, but she picked me. I know I'm not good enough for her, I'm not blind to the monster I really am, but for some reason she chooses to be around me."

"You fed from her."

Of course it would get back to her as well, she probably noticed the scar. "It was stupid. She was upset and bleeding, a lot, and I lost control. If I could take it back I would."

I know she isn't looking for my excuses, so I stop there.

"You'll hurt her."

Never one for pulling punches, there it is. That is what Rosalie really means to say, and it stings. I probably will. I already have. It hurts because I recognize its truth.

"I know."

My response surprises her, and she reconsiders the retort on the tip of her tongue. She had been ready to tell me to leave her alone, for her own good. I know because I've considered it myself, if it wouldn't be better for her if I wasn't around, but I know that it'll hurt her more to have me abandon her like that, so as long as she wants me, I'll be here.

She continues her internal debate a few moments longer and then nods to herself and levels her gaze at me again.

"Are you going to just leave me here with her the rest of the night? Sitting here watching her sleep isn't really as interesting as it's been made out to be."

With that she slowly extricates herself from tiny Alice's grasp, nodding to me to get over there and take her place. I appreciate her pseudo acceptance for what it is, pacification for the moment, and gratefully take her place with Alice. She doesn't offer any other ending to the conversation, simply walks out of the room. I think I might get along with Rosalie just fine.

So… not super exciting, but a glimpse into the Rosalie/Jasper interaction. Whatcha think?

Pleasepleaseplease take a second to review, even if it's just a smiley face or a few words… I really need it this chapter, the next few weeks are going to kick my butt and I have to get motivated or I won't update at all through them…

Please?

Thanks :) Love you all, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, to the couple new readers and all of the old ones :)


	33. Forgive

Giant thank you to Breath-of-twilight who helped me get around the error message and finally post! You should check out her awesome story, "Desolation!"

This was supposed to be up five days ago... but the add to story function kept failing... so the rest of the time was totally my fault, but the last few days of the wait weren't! *duck and cover*

Also- (if it lets me post it today[which it didn't]) today is this story's one year anniversary!

So... do I know it's been forever?

yes. I'm so sorry.

Am I giving up on the story?

no, I promise!

Is it going to be like this forever?

no, hopefully not! I'm home and settled again, I should be better!

This chapter is not as polished (as if any of them are), but I really needed to get it out! Thank you for sticking with me!

Also a special thank you to my new reviewers and a bigger hugest thank you to my normal reviewers, it makes me sure that I'll keep writing. Thank you for your support.

* * *

**Chapter 33 **

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

The next thing I know, the sun is shining through the front curtains. I couldn't have slept through the night without Jasper here, could I? I shift slightly and feel cold skin against my arm. Is Rosalie still here? I asked her to stay, but I didn't mean she had to stay all night. Surely she knew that, right? Even if she didn't, she doesn't really seem like the type to feel obligated to anything she doesn't want to do. I finally give up and crack one eye open, serving as the lookout.

There, leaning back against the headboard is the most beautiful man I've ever seen, my Jasper. I don't know when I first allowed myself the title, at least in my thoughts, of "mine", but somehow it fits, at least for my own uses. I somehow doubt that this fierce and wild man could ever be correctly said to _belong_ to anyone, but in my imagination, he is mine. His eyes are closed with his arms behind his head. If I didn't know better, I would say he was asleep too. I take the chance to admire him, opening my other eye but not moving, so as not to disturb him. Although I don't want him to catch me staring, I wish he would open his eyes. Even the hazy red isn't enough to obscure the knowledge contained in their depths. I feel as though the answer to every question I've ever asked is in there somewhere, as if I could spend the rest of my eternal life staring into his eyes and not have wasted a single second.

I take the rare moment to examine every plane of his face unobserved. Even the silver raised scars are rugged and inexplicably attractive on him. It's as if he literally walked through hell to find me, and isn't far from the truth. My eyes are drawn down the lines of his neck to where they disappear under his black t-shirt; the sharp angles attaching smoothly to the muscles that stretch out to each shoulder.

Unfortunately, before I can get any farther in my quest to memorize every one of his features, I feel his hand move to my cheek, clearly having come back from wherever he was relaxing a moment ago.

"How did you sleep, sugar?" His voice is gentle and I can almost forget that he ever left in the first place. Did he ever leave? Did I dream that Rosalie was ever here? That does seem like a more plausible explanation than the conversation I remember last night, but it seems too strange even for a dream.

"Alright. Was Rosalie here?"

"Yeah, I think she stayed with you while I was gone."

"I remember, I just didn't know if it was a dream." I yawn, the force of it curling my toes and making me want to stretch out as far as I can, like I've seen cats do. Maybe they're on to something, because it's a great way to wake up.

"How was your trip?"

For the first time, I chance a look up into his eyes and find them a deep orange. I think that means it went well, but I remember them being at least a little orange earlier, too.

"It was fine, the boys dragged me around half the country looking for some animal or another, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I expected it to be. I might be able to get used to this eventually."

I'm so happy to hear this I could almost kiss him. I know that this is one of the hardest adjustments for him to being here, and to hear that he has hope that it might actually work is so exciting to me.

"I'm glad. I was hoping that it would go well." I manage to stop my words there, congratulating myself on a coherent, appropriate sentence rather than a girly and undignified shriek.

"So, school again today, huh?"

"Yeah. I think it'll go better. The first day is over, so maybe people will start to lose interest. I'll certainly feel much better about attending when the novelty has worn off."

"They're children, Darlin', it won't take long for the next shiny object to show up."

"I hope you're right." I sigh, thinking of all of the not so subtle pointing and whispering yesterday. Even completely human I could have heard them from the distance from which they were speaking. Didn't it even matter to them that they were gossiping with me right there? Apparently not. I just hoped that some of the interest in my mishaps yesterday and strange behavior has blown over today. If I can just sink below the radar, I'm an expert at staying there.

"I am. Now you better get your pretty little self up, because I've been putting off waking you up for the last half hour, and now you actually need to get ready."

I glance at the clock on the wall to find that, sure enough, I need to get up. I have much higher hopes for the day after waking up next to Jasper, there's just something about his presence that causes everything to just make sense again. When he's here with me I know I can do it, one foot in front of the other, just like anything else.

I reluctantly crawl out of the incredible, squishy bed, and away from my courage incarnate, and make my way over to the closet, where my few outfits have been hung neatly. Jasper excuses himself while I get ready, and moves to go downstairs. I imagine this is where he will make sure there is something in the kitchen to try to force down my throat when I arrive down there, but I can't fault him for worrying, no matter how disastrous or intrusive the results. I choose the other dress Esme originally purchased for me, as the set that were dropped off at the seamstress are yet to return, and head to the attached bathroom to clean up. Washing up is accomplished in only a few minutes, as I'm careful not to waste the little time I have left. When I finish, I quickly pull the dress over my head and fasten it, turning toward the mirror to double check my outfit. Because it hasn't been taken in, the dress falls limply from my shoulders, the neckline a little too wide and the sleeves and hem falling much lower than they were intended to lie. I don't mind it being too long, but I will have to keep an eye on the placement of the neckline all day. It would be just my luck that it would slip off my shoulder entirely in the middle of class or something equally terrible.

I glance at the reflection one last time; this is about as good as it's going to get. Having washed my hair to get the last bit of dried blood out of it, it's now wet and completely unruly. I've tried to glue it down, but it just won't stay. My wild hair, teamed with my too big dress, small frame and childish features make me look even younger than usual. At least I looked somewhat old enough to attend school yesterday. I pull out the small makeup kit Esme gave me and try to make myself look a little older with a few accents, but in the end I give up and take most of it back off, content that my appearance is probably inevitable, no matter how much makeup I try to throw on to throw off the humans.

Resigned, I exit the bathroom to find the soft black cloak Esme bought me. I think it's in my closet as well, but I haven't seen it in a while. I'm hoping that the chill in the air will be enough to justify it, and it will probably help solve my dress sizing issue, as it ties around my shoulders. After a short search around my room, I come to the conclusion that I must have left it downstairs and take one last trip around the room, looking for anything else that should be downstairs with my backpack in my pile of things coming with me.

When my search comes up negative, I decide that I must have left it downstairs. As I descend the staircase, I hear Esme wandering around the kitchen. Although everyone else isn't gathered there, I know that this is going to end up being a milder repeat of yesterday's breakfast fiasco. Maybe if I could take something upstairs I might be able to eat something. After all, I do have a long day ahead. I don't think I'll be able to eat downstairs in the kitchen, but I could probably handle it up in my room.

I find the warm garment hanging in the foyer coat closet and pull it on, even though I'll still be inside for the next little while. It can't hurt to be a little warmer, right?

By the time I return to the kitchen, Esme is loading food onto a wooden tray with handles, and I assume that Edward has relayed my preference to her. Although I'm still intimidated by the amount she seems to expect me to eat, I'm thankful for the sentiment. This I could probably handle on a normal basis, even if there was no way I was going to eat at school with everyone there.

I thank Esme and take the tray from her, glancing at the clock on my way back upstairs. I have fifteen minutes left before I think we have to leave, which is perfect. I set the whole tray down on our bed and glance around the room, finding Jasper sitting on the window seat, the morning sun glinting off his skin despite the overcast skies.

"Planning a change of location for breakfast, sugar?"

"Yes. I think this will be easier for me." I leave off the 'without you' I want to add to the sentence, knowing that it will come across much harsher than I intend. I care about Jasper, and for the most part I trust him, but I still can't quite get my mind around eating with him, especially when he can't eat and has nothing to do but watch me. It's as if I irrationally believe that he'll look down on me for what I'm about to do as much as I will. I wait for him to move, or keep speaking, or do anything, really, but he doesn't. He just holds his seat in the window, staring out into the lawn.

Although I know, in my mind, that he can just as easily tell every move through his sense of hearing, somehow, having him pretend not to pay attention is oddly helpful. I begin sorting through my foods, taking small bites of each to try them out. I keep him clearly in my vision, but he continues to pretend to ignore me. If he doesn't pay attention, maybe I don't mind him here after all. I eat the crust of the toast Esme made me, carefully avoiding the butter in the middle, in little bites, knowing that it will help make me feel fed. I then move on to the bacon. I separate the darker colored meat from the lighter colored fat and then carefully dab away the grease with my napkin. I eat a little of it that way, knowing that I need some sort of protein in my body in order to make it through the day without crashing.

I then pause to plan my next course of action. Untouched, there remains sausage links, scrambled eggs, pancakes and a pastry as well as orange juice and milk. The pastry is certainly out; I don't need nutrient-free sugar and fat in my system. The sausage is also unsalvageable, the protein in it not worth the tradeoff of all of the other unsavory components. The pancakes are more carbs, which are less useful than the bit of wheat toast I've already had. I nibble the middle of the one on the bottom, avoiding the syrup Esme has drowned the top two in. Eggs are protein but high cholesterol and carbs, but sill almost worth it. A manage a few bits and then drink half each of my milk and juice, seeing a relatively tradeoff free source of vitamins and a little more protein to end my meal. Feeling better than I have in a while, I set aside my tray of the rejected foods, along with the remains of the chosen foods, and look expectantly toward Jasper.

To his credit, he doesn't acknowledge me again until I address him. I'm almost fooled into believing he actually wasn't paying attention. Almost.

"Jasper, what time is it?"

"You've got about five minutes before you should be ready and headed downstairs. I'll take your dishes after you go, so don't worry about them."

"Will you come and sit with me before I have to go?"

I feel silly asking, but when he turns around and I see his expression I feel better, he looks as though he thought I'd never ask. In all of my issues with going to school I forget that this is really hard for Jasper too. I've only seen some of his demons, and even though he doesn't talk about it, I know that he carries a lot of his past with him still. I doubt that it sits well that I'm away from him and out of his reach for most of the day.

He comes to sit beside me on the bed and I lean closer, hooking my arm with his and leaning my head against his arm. He isn't slouching enough for me to be able to reach his shoulder, but with how short I am, it's pretty much all the same anyway.

"You think today will be easier?"

He smiles his small, knowing smile and tells me that he's sure it will be.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

I expected the second day to go more smoothly- and more quickly- than the first, but I couldn't have been more wrong. Now that she's survived the first day I have details to worry about, rather than just general ideas, and let me tell you, that knowledge is not comforting. With this information I am able to worry much more effectively. For example, I am playing through every possible thing that could go wrong with her male teacher in government class, rather intentionally or not, as well as more sports coaches which the school inevitably employs running her down. I also have the nagging feeling that although Rosalie could be a good resource to Alice, that I should be nervous for now about what she might say to her in an enclosed environment, say, a class together. I worry about the other students treating her badly, although I know that the others would head that off if they were around.

I wonder what the other students think of her, what they see when they look at her. She looks clearly unhealthy to our eyes, but I don't know how much of that is sharpened senses coupled with a fixation with blood and skin. Do they even notice anything different about her? Maybe I'm worrying too much; she's probably getting along just fine. She was calm enough yesterday after a whole day away, a first day at that. I feel like the parent of a toddler taking their child to daycare for the first time and I know that it isn't healthy to be this concerned. If she could see me now she'd break her hand trying to smack me silly for this.

I wonder if the other students bought the Cullen's story about her background. I wonder if they've even heard it. Maybe that was only for the teachers; do they think everything is normal? Maybe they've been left to make up their own stories; I wonder what they would think? I forgot to ask Edward just who the story they invented was going to, I only asked about its contents. They probably have experience dealing with delicate issues such as hers, I'm sure they have some sort of protocol. It's probably fine, just another thing on my list to worry about. Behind her jumpy exterior, I can easily see the strong, kind and confident girl Alice has hidden in there somewhere, I just hope that a few of her schoolmates will be willing to stick around long enough to see it too. Although I certainly don't want to share my time with her, it might be good for her to have some… normal… friends too.

I've located myself outside, as I doubt Esme appreciates me pacing in the living room while she's trying to work. I will admit I have no idea what she's trying to work _on_, but I know that she's focused on something, so I should leave her alone. I realize, at this rate, this tract of grass will probably be bare dirt by the end of the day, so I expand my pacing into aimless wondering, hoping to even out my abuse of the foliage. I catch her fading scent on the walkway leading to the garage and pause for a moment, savoring it even as it fades completely. She's not away for long, I have to remind myself.

Although I have been alive a few lifetimes already, eight hours seems impossibly long when I'm waiting for her to come back to me. I waited my whole existence for her, why is it so hard to add a few hours a day of waiting? The answer is simple, back then I didn't know what I was missing. Now, having her in my life, I know that I could never to back to who I was, who I thought I was at least. All along that couldn't have been my identity for long, I feel like I could never have known who I really am without meeting her. Who I am with her is the purest form of who I hope that I really am; who I want to be. For the first time since I was changed, I like who I am. It's only because of her. I know I lived without her before, but I could never do it again. She's marked me deeper than any of the newborns could have, deeper than Maria ever accessed, to my very soul. She's as much a part of my real self as I am.

I don't realize that I've finally come to a stop until Esme calls me back to reality. I look up to find her standing in the back doorway, an amused expression on her face.

"Jasper, when you find a minute, could I speak with you?"

Her eyes shine with humor at her own question, as I'm obviously not busy doing anything at the present moment, nor have I been for a while.

"Of course, Esme." I pick myself up off the rock I'd finally settled on and take myself inside. I'm not sure what to expect, but I imagine it has to do with Alice, or at least it should if she wants me to pay attention to her while Alice is away. She's settled down in the living room and I take my seat on the chair across the center table from her. I'm more than a little curious about what she has to say, she's probably the member of the family I've heard the least from on the subject of Alice, but her actions have been hospitable and non-threatening.

"First, I wanted you to know that I'm really glad that you and Alice came to us. I get the sense that it wasn't entirely your idea, but I'm glad that of all the places for you two to end up, it was here. I think that you both are pieces of this family we don't know we were missing until it came together. I know that there were a lot of mishaps surrounding your coming, so we may not have ever told you how happy we are you've come."

I swallow reflexively, unsure of how to respond. In true form, however, Esme seems to notice my discomfort with her line of conversation and continues without expecting a response.

"Also, I wanted to tell you that I'm really impressed with how well you're doing with Alice. I know that it can be hard to navigate closer to someone who is still hurting; it probably feels as though the rules are constantly changing right when you thought you had them figured out. I wanted you to know that we're all really impressed by how well you've been able to cope with your quickly changing lifestyle along with Alice's difficulties."

I still am not sure how to respond, so the best I manage is a sort of half hearted nod.

She leans forward, her forearms resting on her legs, toward the center table, and reflexively I mirror her pose. I can feel from her emotions that whatever she's about to get to is the real point of this conversation, so it feels right to lean in and listen.

"But most of all, I want you to know that if you ever need anything, you can talk to us. Every single person in this family has been in a situation similar to either yours or Alice's in some way and it takes a lot of patience and support to make it to the other side. We're here to help if you need us, all of us. I assume you gathered from Rose's reaction the first day that her past is similar, but mine is as well. If you or Alice ever needs to talk about any of it, I'm here for you both. I might be able to shed some light on what she may be going through."

I stay still and silent, processing her words. Rosalie I suspected, Esme I did not. How could she go through anything as dark as Alice has and still be so… accepting? How could she have been put together again so securely that she has become this gracious, loving woman without a trace of the fear or anger or bitterness Alice and Rosalie still hold? Now, I'm curious.

"How did you do it? How did you get from that to who you are now?" Is there any hope for Alice getting there? I can't bear to ask it out loud, for fear of her answer if I do, but that's what I really want to know. Could Alice ever be like this?

"Time, dear. Time, love, patience and a lot of forgiveness; Carlisle had to teach me that forgiving my ex-husband wasn't about excusing him from responsibility for his actions toward me, but about giving up my own bitterness toward him for something neither he nor I could change. In the end, I just had to let it go. The best revenge against him is to live my life now happy and free. Rosalie got her revenge, but because of it she may never have her peace. I let him go, didn't seek revenge, and now I have the sweetest form. He died a lonely old man while I live on, happy and healthy and free of him. I know it doesn't seem right, but in the end it's the only way to truly get past it."

She may as well have switched to Russian halfway through the conversation for all I comprehended of that. How can she ever be content knowing that the man who hurt her lived on and died on his own? If I didn't know that the man who hurt Alice was dead, I would search day and night for him and make him pay. It wouldn't be on Alice's hands, so maybe she could find the acceptance that Esme was talking about, but as for me, I need blood. If the price of making him suffer is that I will never have peace, I consider it an easy trade. There are more than enough things I've already done that make that sort of state impossible for me anyways; one more justified act surely wouldn't make it any worse. I've killed for less, much less.

"As I said, I know this doesn't make a whole lot of sense to you. My ex-husband took from me the most important part of my life, my unborn son, but I knew now that without my son's early arrival in heaven, I would have never left him and tried to join my son. If not for that jump I wouldn't have my darling Carlisle or my two, now three, wonderful sons. I'll never stop missing my son, but I know that for everything taken from me, so much more has been given back. It doesn't replace or lessen anything that came before, but it makes me realize that any given today is so much more valuable than all of my yesterdays put together. It's the only way to really live, after going through the sort of things that you two have survived. Alice isn't the only one who needs help, Jasper, but I think that the person you need to forgive may be yourself. Even if it doesn't absolve you from responsibility for wrong choices, it gives you the freedom to move on and not repeat them again. Guilt is a cruel master that only leads you in circles, back to doing the things that made you feel guilty in the first place. If you don't let yourself move on, you'll only end up back there again. If not for yourself, forgive for Alice. She needs you."

Although I can't relate to the idea that I might be able to let this go, I decide to store away the possibility that Alice may need this for another time and take note. Esme seems to have said what she wanted to say, so after a few closing pleasantries I excuse myself to return outside, new images rolling around in my mind. What could he have possibly done to Esme to make her try to end her life? How did her son die? Did Carlisle know her ex-husband? How could he live with himself, knowing that he let that man live? I felt her fear as she spoke of him, a silent and underlying current. It wasn't pressing, but a sort of old habit. I'm assuming that he was the reason she'd tried to join her son and anything that he could have done to drive her that far should have been punished with death.

As I've said, I've killed for less.

I close my eyes and wait for Alice, listening for accidental patterns in the random rhythms of the spring running through the forest. Although it's cold out, it isn't enough to freeze the water. I review every word of the documents upstairs in my mind as well as the new information I'd found in my research, turning it around in my mind to look for anything I may have missed. Content that I have covered every angle I can think of, I head back inside to check the time. It has to be almost time for Alice to come back.

* * *

So... whatcha think? Like I said, the next one shouldn't be so long in coming, hopefully! thanks again for sticking with me.


	34. Next

Two whole weeks? Really?

Yes. So sorry. Same song and dance. Thank you so much to those who reviewed the last chapter, it made my week as I was trying to get this out. I love you all.

**Chapter 34**

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

True to Jasper's assurances, today _has_ gone better. I feel a little guilty for getting the answer to a question in chemistry from Edward, but I've only been here a day, there was no way I knew. It wasn't a test or anything, so I'll make him explain what I said to me later, so next time I'll know for real. As long as I can catch up eventually, no harm was done, right? I hope not.

Other than my guilt over that incident, the day has gone fairly smoothly. The drive was long and quiet. I was still more tired than I thought from my dreams last night so I dozed off in the car. Admittedly, I may have screamed at Edward to get away from me when I woke up, but that is a fairly standard wakeup for me, so I don't count it as an issue in the day overall. At least it wasn't in a class. For the first time in a long time I don't remember anything of my dream. It used to happen to me a lot, waking up clearly upset but not remembering, but in the last couple years I've remembered my nightmares. I'm not sure if that's a step forward or back for me; I don't know if it's worse to wonder what the nightmare was about or to remember it perfectly.

Chemistry was otherwise uneventful. I scribbled down the notes that may as well have been Hebrew for all I understood from them and true to her word; the teacher let me sit in the corner today. All in all, other than her calling on me, that class went fine. English was uneventful, and although I'm still not doing well with my middle of the room seating arrangements, it's better today than it was yesterday. It seems that most of my minor meltdowns yesterday were overshadowed by the rumor that the coach I ran into had purposely tried to smash me flat my first day, which is much more amicable to my adjustment than any other rumors that could have started surrounding my sudden appearance in their school midyear.

Government was worse than yesterday, because we had to go over our homework and the teacher wouldn't allow Edward and me to work together. I guess it seemed like a conflict of interest to him. I had to compare notes with the boy on the other side of me, who was all together too interested in my lips to pay attention to the words coming out of them. Several times I simply stopped talking, leaned back and waited for him to zone back in before I continued, but he didn't even have the good sense to be embarrassed at being caught, just zoned right back out a few seconds later. Finally I gave up, knowing that my homework was done correctly. Unfortunately the teacher noticed that we were no longer working and came over, garnering even more attention on me; now the boy next to me, the teacher and a few glances from the rest of the room.

When he came over all I could see was his expression, upset, and more than that, upset with me. I couldn't see straight, my mind was spinning. I could feel myself panicking, but I couldn't even pull myself back enough to respond to him at all as he asked some sarcastic question about our non-participation. When my mute homework partner didn't respond, his attention turned to me and he must have seen the pure terror in my eyes, or the undoubtedly murderous gaze from Edward behind me, because he quickly made some other comment and continued on his way. I quickly excused myself to the restroom to collect my wits, and came back just as the class was ending to collect my things and Edward before braving the hallway. For the first time I insisted that we leave before the hallways cleared, because I didn't want any more comments from the teacher and staying may have made him feel obligated to speak to one of us again. I was all for getting out.

History was blessedly boring, the section I read last night was apparently right because I understood what she was talking about when she lectured for most of the hour.

Lunch was, as expected, its own ride, but at least everyone felt better about me eating breakfast, so there were less meaningful glances as I only pushed things around at lunch. I know it doesn't make sense to any of them, but there is simply no way that I can eat in front of all of these strange teenagers any more than any of them would want to do so. I caught the disagreement in Edward's expression, but he wisely chose to let it be for the time being, allowing lunch to pass quickly in a haze of shredded food and overheard snippets of shallow conversation. The idle chatter is becoming oddly comforting, although it makes me uneasy when I hear my name; the rest of it is sort of disarming in its own mundane way.

In home economics Rosalie asks me if I've made a decision regarding her offer, and it's honestly the first time today I've really been convinced that that conversation actually happened. Although Jasper told me that she was really there last night, I didn't think that what I remembered of our conversation could have possibly been in real life. Her question causes me to puzzle over it for the next hour, effectively tuning out the entire demonstration on pie techniques.

Finally, at the end of class, I realized that I'm only going around in circles in my mind. More time wasn't going to help me resolve the issue, and it all came down to a simple dilemma; do I keep myself locked away in order to cut my losses, or do I give someone else the opportunity to hurt me and trust that she can help me heal instead?

Having tried the former for all of my second life, I decided that I need to at least give Rosalie a try. It may seem brash, to just up and change my mind after all these years, but I've been thinking about it for a long time, and I think it's finally time to act.

I didn't expect the conversation to go so quickly. I told her that I was willing to try, and she told me that she doesn't do 'try', that I'm either agreeing or I'm not. I was caught off guard, but the truth is, I know I can't go on like this, so I agreed. I have no idea what all I've agreed to, or what she might have up her sleeve, but it can't be worse than what I've been through trying to get out of this on my own, so I'm just desperate enough to try to trust, if not for me, then for Jasper. I might be willing to live with the misery accompanying my normal, daily life, but Jasper doesn't deserve my drama on top of his own horrors, and neither do any of the others. If not for me, I need to do something about this for them, for Jasper and my new family.

So, now I find myself inching through the slowest part of the day, my math class without any of the others. I'm so close to being able to leave for the day and get back to Jasper, but the minute hand just won't move. I try counting seconds, but it only makes me more aware of how few are actually passing. The other reason this hour seems so long is that I'm more than a little worried that Edward will hang back again and I'll end up stuck in another conversation with Ian or one of the others. I know that it shouldn't be a big deal, but I'm getting more and more anxious to get myself home, get my homework done and relax with Jasper until I fall into a much more peaceful night's sleep than last night's.

*_*_*_*_Edward*_*_*_*_*

For having placed into advanced math, my classmates' thoughts are particularly simple today. Most are thinking about what they're going to be doing in fifteen minutes when school gets out, a dull chatter of homework, family responsibilities, social aspirations, and planned spontaneous conversations. Fortunately, most of the upperclassmen at least have gotten over Alice's presence in school, at least for now. I know that it's probably only a matter of time before something else happens and the questions start coming, but for now, she's settling in. Most people have passed her off as shy, an auspicious alternative to the truth of why she sticks so close to me.

On the way to school I caught a harsh reminder of that truth. I heard that she was dozing off, but I figured that if she was tired it wouldn't hurt anything for her to get some sleep on the way to school. We live far enough away to give her time and I planned on waking her before we got to school so she'd have a minute to collect herself, but that wasn't exactly what happened.

The dream started normal enough, she was in a dark room. She couldn't see anything and couldn't move, but dreams are strange, so this didn't concern me. I hadn't been that close to a dreaming mind before, so I wasn't really even sure what to expect. If not for my heightened senses I may have lost focus on the road entirely, it was really interesting to experience, especially in its proximity.

The darkness began to recede, almost is if her eyes were human and adjusting to the darkness, and she found herself lying on a cold metal table, strapped down. Admittedly, that wasn't exactly boding well for her dream, but she was still getting rest so I wasn't ready to try to wake her up yet. In her dream she was cold and kept trying to call out for someone to bring her a blanket, but she couldn't make a sound. I turned the heat in the car all the way up, hoping to alleviate at least that small detail of her dream, but it didn't seem to register.

Finally, the door opened, but from her position she couldn't see the person who entered. When he came around to her line of sight she seemed to recognize him, but I couldn't tell what she would have said to him because she'd given up trying to speak. Dreams aren't like memories, the mind outside of the dream isn't aware of it, so if the associated memory isn't in the dream, I don't see it. It makes everything much more difficult when neither I nor the dreamer knows if the image is a memory or a figment of their imagination. The only way to tell is when they think about it after they wake, which is why this one was so confusing. When she woke up, she didn't remember the dream. There's no way I was going to remind her, given what happened next in the dream, so now I have no idea if it was based on reality or just a nightmare.

The man, who I think she recognized but I couldn't really tell, walked over to her and began speaking to her, but the words were slurred and impossible to understand, as if she was drugged or drunk and trying to listen to someone speaking code. I remember the next bit clearly, I find myself replaying it in my mind trying to see it from a different perspective for the millionth time today.

Even her vision was hazy; the room seems to be swaying, slightly. She doesn't identify the man with a name or title, but with an emotion. She turns away from his incoherent mumblings disgusted. He tries, several times, to regain her attention. He physically turns her face back toward him, but she refuses to meet his gaze; he speaks louder, but his voice is still lost in the cacophony of disjointed sounds. Whatever he is saying, she doesn't hear it and he seems to be able to tell, because he gets more and more agitated. Then, as if a switch is flipped, he instantly calms down. He sits down on the metal table next to her and lays flat next to her, his body over the restraints holding her, making them even tighter. She tries to protest, to whimper, anything, but she has no voice at all. He's still talking to her, a dull drone of nothingness in monotone, but as he does he keeps moving closer to her. He gently caresses her face, but she doesn't seem to enjoy his proximity. Finally, he's laying on his side, his chest almost touching her arm. He leans on one of his arms and the other wraps around her. His touch is almost an embrace, and I wonder for a moment if I was wrong, if it may be a memory of an old friend, but his touches quickly become less friendly and more invasive. She wants him to stop but doesn't have a voice. Right before I reach over to wake her up, a single sentence of coherent words surfaces in the river of nonsense coming from his mouth: "I'll always find you."

Creepy, right? Now I just have to hope that it isn't a memory, that's just what Alice needs, some stalker coming for her. Hopefully whoever her mind conjured that image from is long dead and gone by now. When speaking didn't wake her up I had to shake her and, as expected, she freaked out. I'd pulled over to the side of the road, expecting some sort of incident, but all in all it wasn't too bad. She yelled at me to get away from her, but she figured out where she was and what had happened pretty quickly. I learned from her thoughts that she used to have nightmares she couldn't remember all the time, so she didn't think it strange. For some reason she didn't think to ask me, but maybe it didn't occur to her, or it's possible that she just didn't want to know.

I'm not sure I would if I were her.

Before I know it everyone starts packing up their bags, and shortly after the bell rings, the room erupting with motion. I slowly throw things into my bag, catching Emmett in the hallway on my way to the other side of the math and science wing.

"You two headed home today, or will you be taking off again?"

"I guess I'm about to find out. I haven't talked to Rose about it since this morning and she seemed undecided. I guess you'll know when you get home."

We parted ways and I made my way to Alice's classroom. I didn't hear her talking to anyone, so Ian must have decided to give her a break today. I don't hear her in the room yet, but with the other sounds of the halls closer to me, that isn't too surprising. I wander to the doorway and poke my head in to tell her I'm ready and… nothing. The room is empty, even the teacher seems to have gone somewhere, although the door was still open, so she couldn't have left for the day yet.

My mind frantically searches the thoughts of those around me, but for once, no one is thinking of her. What are the chances that the only time I need them to have gossip on their mind they don't? High schoolers are just not on my side. I stride in, quickly checking the windows or any other exits, but finding her scent only near her seat and leading to the door. Unfortunately, there are a dozen others in the same areas, and as soon as I reach the hallway it's nearly impossible to distinguish, covered as it is by all of the other students moving around.

Where is she? I can't think of a situation where she would have left voluntarily through the crowded halls unaccompanied, but I can't imagine anyone forcibly removing her without making any sort of scene, someone would have had to see it, right? I scan minds farther out, looking for her or anything to do with her, and I finally pick something up. I'm going to kill her.

When I arrive at the back wall of the English wing, having had immense trouble keeping a human pace, I then have to keep up a somewhat civil façade toward my supposed sister, an impossibly tougher act. I keep my voice down so as to not attract attention, but a few prying eyes are already interested in what the 'weird kids' are up to.

"Rosalie, what the _hell_ were you thinking? Why wouldn't you tell me that you were taking her from class? Or at least have the decency to warn me once you already had?"

"We have things to discuss." Rosalie's reply is equal parts venom and nonchalance, daring me to argue further. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how one looks at it, I am both well accustomed to the tone and perfectly able to see past it into her thoughts. So I do what I usually do, I push it.

"I thought she was gone, that something had happened to her. Any chance you could can the queen act long enough to speak about this rationally?"

"Unlikely. Now go along home, Alice and I have some things that we need to get done. I'll have her home within the hour, we'll run when we're finished, I'll just have them deliver. Make sure Jasper cools it for that long."

"Rose, that's not going to happen, the nomads could be here already, or soon. It would be safer if we all drove home and stuck together."

She raises a delicate eyebrow in my direction, but I continue before she can construe it however she is in the process of.

"Jasper will go crazy if she's out here today without all of us, him especially."

"Then leave us a car. I'll have her home in a bit and stick to the town until then. He's just going to have to deal with it for that long. Now leave."

I am highly unconvinced that Jasper will 'just deal with it', but I am nearly as convinced that Rosalie is not going to back down on this at anyone's insistence, especially mine. I heave an unnecessary sigh and turn to find Emmett and stuff him into my car.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

She pulls me toward Emmett's truck the second the boys are out of our sight. I have no idea what she's up to, but I have the feeling that this is related to my concession in home economics earlier.

"Rosalie, what's going on? Jasper's going to be really mad if I don't get home soon."

"I'll deal with him, you come with me. You'll see."

I'm not sure I want Rosalie to 'deal with him', but I guess I don't have much choice, so I allow myself to be propelled toward the large vehicle. She takes my bag from my shoulder and tosses it unceremoniously into the back seat.

"Jump in, kiddo. We've got tracks to make before your babysitter comes stalking into town after us."

I climb carefully into the truck, if one could call it that, and she takes off as soon as my door is closed. We speed through the larger town and past the school area before I have a chance to pin down my seatbelt. I can't tell how fast we're going because the speedometer is flat against the highest speed of the car, but we still seem to be accelerating. Having only been inside a vehicle a handful of times before the Cullens, I'm a little terrified. I clutch the handles on the door and close my eyes, praying that I would survive a crash at this speed, but not keeping my hopes up. There are very few things that can threaten my life, but I imagine metal projectiles flying at my face, at this speed, are some of them.

"So listen up, if you want to stop tiptoeing around everyone you need to learn how to handle yourself. Those little human boys shouldn't bother you a bit, you're twice as strong as them, and that's the first step. You need to learn what you are and aren't capable of, it'll help."

I don't manage an answer, as I'm still too terrified to open my eyes. My mind spends little time trying to decipher this, as its busy fearing for my life. Before long we come to a stop in front of a worn down office building. I give her a questioning look, but she simply throws open her door, leaving the keys in the car and starts walking toward it without a second glance to see if I am following. I think I'm supposed to, and I'm not going to stay here without her, so I quickly move to follow her on shaky legs.

I catch up just as she reaches the door. She throws it open, startling a few men on the other side. They seem to have been preparing a response until they recognize her. She strolls past them and into a back room. She makes small talk with a man in a back office before walking back out to the jeep.

I do a double take when I see the vehicle we've just left. There are black… things molded into shapes that sort of fit into the vehicle. It looks as if they've taken up the flooring from a building and stuffed it into the jeep. What is going on?

"Um, Rosalie? What in the world is that stuff?"

"Nothing. I'll show you later."

With that we're off, again at breakneck speed, and I close my eyes, trying to assure myself with the fact that I've survived the first leg of the trip. The next time the vehicle slows I chance a peek and find a small shop in front of us.

"What now?"

"You'll see." I'm getting a little tired of her uninformative answers, but I don't have time to argue because she's on the move. She jumps out of the truck and for a second time I'm rushing to keep up with her.

She strolls into the store like she owns the place, and I get the feeling that's basically true.

"Kellen! Where are you?" The interior of the building contains shelves and shelves of… weapons. Every description of weapon. It triggers something in my mind and I'm afraid, but I don't examine the thought, content with the general feel of discomfort without any more specifics.

"Who the- oh! Rose! There you are. I was wondering if you were coming in today after all. Is that little thing who you were talking about? I thought you were kidding with those measurements, but I had them made just in case. Right this way."

The man in question is, in a word, terrifying. His tone was friendly enough, but his build and the scars that mark his giant body are clear enough warning. I stick a little closer to Rose as he leads us back to another office.

"Here's what you wanted, altered to fit that little thing." He gestures generally in my direction, but I'm not listening too closely.

On the table between us is an assortment of, what looks like, jewelry. What is going on?

Thanks, Kellen. Let's see if any of this fits. Do you have the other thing?

"Yeah, of course. I had a few variations made so you could decide on what works best for her." He turns his attention to me and gestures to a small area of the room sectioned off by a sheet hanging from the ceiling; it looks to be a dressing room of sorts.

When he starts to reach for me, probably simply to lead me there, I can't help but to recoil. My mind had already decided not to, that it would be childish and embarrassing, but my senses are too ingrained to stop myself. His eyes narrow in scrutiny, but Rosalie breezes past him, catching my arm and leading me to the makeshift room. She takes a few hangers off the hook beside the door and pulls the curtain shut, both of us inside. I didn't get a good look at what she grabbed on the way in, but now, inside the dressing room, I see a set of four… dresses, I suppose? They are short and fitted, something I would never wear under almost any circumstances.

"Rose-" I squeak, barely able to put together the next thought before she's tossing me the first one.

"It's not for everyday use, it's for something specific. You won't be able to wear your normal dresses without ruining them, so I suggest you find one of these you like. Do you need me to stay and make sure you actually try them on, or can I trust you to try them on and come out to show me, so I can help you pick one out?"

I'm torn. I don't really want her to stay, but the thought of walking out in front of that man in whatever these scraps of fabric are is terrifying. Unfortunately, the idea of her staying and changing me like a doll isn't very appealing either, especially because she's likely to find scars that she'll want explanations for, answers I'm not ready to give her yet. I may have promised that I'd tell her what she wanted to know, but I only have to answer the question if she finds out what to ask. I'd like to put of that conversation for as long as possible.

"Can I put one on and then have you come in and look?" I try not to make it obvious that this is really the only compromise that I'll accept, and thankfully, she agrees.

"Hurry up, half pint."

As soon as the covering is solidly back in place and I hear a short conversation beginning between the intimidating man and Rosalie, I quickly pull of my dress, pulling the strange new fabric over my head as quickly as possible. I'm terrified that I'll lose my balance and fall out of the room half naked or something equally embarrassing, so I make short work of the strange garment, somewhat thankful for the lack of mirror in the room, knowing that it would only make me more uncomfortable with the dress.

"Done, Rose," I call quietly and she quickly comes in, moving my arms around and asking me to turn in a circle. We repeat the process with the other three, me changing as quickly as possible, and her coming in and assessing each one on some indeterminable basis.

After what seems like ages, I'm back in my real clothing and Rosalie has picked out two of the strange outfits, rejecting the other two. She and the man exchange a few meaningless words about some detail of the two she'd chosen and we return to the odd table of jewelry.

"Okay, last stop. Kellen, you have any suggestions for what would look natural enough on someone so tiny?"

He carefully sorts through the metal on the table, glancing a few times back at me in an assessing sort of way. After making his selections, Rosalie considers them, picking out a few of them and putting them on me, a few bracelets, a two fingered ring, two necklaces and a few other odds and ends that she doesn't put directly on me. Each piece is angled and simple, and I wonder again what exactly we're shopping for. She glances back over her selection and nods with a sense of finality.

"These, thanks," she collects the metal and the clothing, strolling back to the vehicle again without another glance, even to see if I was following.

When we arrive back at the car I hear his voice again, realizing that he had followed us out.

"You'll have to let me train with her sometime. She seems a bit jumpy, it could do her good."

"We'll see how it goes, Kellen. I'm sure I'll see you before too long."

With that, we are off again. I imagine that this time we're headed all the way home, so I don't bother to pry my eyes open for any amount of time on the way. I don't really want to know how fast Rosalie is driving, and if I am going to die, I most certainly don't want to see it coming.

"So, when we get home tonight we're going to start some training for you. You'll work with only me for a few weeks, then Esme and I. Before long you'll be able to have the others participate as well. I know it will be strange for you, but we can't always be everywhere for you, and you need to know how to defend yourself for a least a little bit if worst comes to worst. It'll also help you around the boys at school, if you know that you could handle yourself around them if need be. This tiny little wisp thing isn't going to work out well for you for much longer either, you can't always trust others to feel sorry for you and protect you. You shouldn't need us to step in with the humans, you should be able to handle yourself just fine, and I'm going to teach you how.

"First of all, the ground rules. We're going to work together every night, no exceptions. You'll wear one of the two dresses we just bought, because at first especially, you won't be able to move well in these ridiculously long contraptions you insist on. As I said, for now it will only be Esme and I, but eventually I want you to be able to work with any of the guys as well."

I'm not sure if she'd already lost me at the idea of learning any sort of self defense, but the concept of learning it with any of the men of the house nearly has me breaking down at the thought. I can't do that. I can barely tolerate Jasper's touch, and then only if he's careful with me. Something tugs at the back of my mind, a memory long forgotten, but I push it away, instinctually knowing that I don't want it to return. This seems like a giant conglomeration of things I don't do: violence, contact, revealing clothing, anything to do with men…

* * *

Thank you again for sticking with this story. I'm not giving up on it, I promise. It means the world to me that each and every one of you is still reading after nearly 130,000 words! That's a lot of bearing with me, so thanks again :)


	35. Lesson

Well, there. It's been about a thousand years. If I had to round down. Still working on it, I promise.

Chapter 35

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

We're finally home. Rosalie can be more than a little intimidating when she sets her mind to doing something, and the discussion of my upcoming "training" sessions have me more than a little overwhelmed. I can't wait to get home, get my homework out of the way and relax with Jasper. I'm not sure if she intends to start our nightmare tonight, but if so I want it to be soon so it can be over. I get out of the giant vehicle and take a single step out of the vehicle before I sense eyes on me.

I shiver, immediately searching the small building for their owner and finding Jasper, leaning on the wall beside the door to the house. His stance is casual, but his eyes are intense. I run over to him immediately, forgetting my backpack still in the back seat, and throw my arms around him, relishing the comfort in his embrace. I'm afraid he's angry with me for not coming home immediately, but I hope that somehow in this gesture he can tell that I didn't want to stay away. It occurs to me, again, how difficult it may be to see us all leave without him every day and I hug him a little longer, trying to assure him without words that I'm safe and sound and that I appreciate his willingness to let me go out and do this for myself. I pull away, but only enough to be able to see his eyes.

A war still wages in their murky, vermilion depths. I can see that he's relieved to have me back, but also the insistent hysteria of remaining adrenaline. I can almost feel the nervous energy he's trying, unsuccessfully, to dismiss, remaining from his wait for me after the others arrived home. I can only imagine how upset he must have been with them. I pull away a little farther, but only enough to weave my fingers in his and pull him inside.

I exchange simple greetings with Esme and Emmett as I walk through the living room, but I don't stop today. I know that he's been stressing about the nomads coming, today wasn't a good day for Rose to decide on our little shopping trip. I pull him up the stairs and to our little haven of a room and lay down on the bed, my school clothes still on, and pull him down to lay beside me. We face one another silently, each appraising the other's well being. Only our fingers touch, a concession made to my mental comfort to counteract our proximity and location.

Finally, I break the silence.

"I don't need to go to school, if it would be better for you. I have all of eternity to make it through high school."

"I want you to have the experiences that you want."

This seems silly to me. If it's making him upset, I should stay, shouldn't I? A little talking around town isn't worth what he's going through staying here alone every day.

"And I will, eventually. I don't need it to happen now. Or I could at least take a break until after you're sure about the nomads?"

He seems to seriously consider this offer. I do my best to convey through my emotions and expression that I really wouldn't mind taking a break from school if it would help him out. He's done nothing but work to accommodate me, even in my less sane requests, this is the least I could do for him. The main reason I wanted to go is to prove to myself that I could, and I've done that. Maybe it would be better for both of us if I pulled back from school for now.

"Alice, I would never want you to sacrifice what you want for me."

I interpret this sentence to mean that he would definitely be more comfortable with me not going, but doesn't want to say so. Having already come to my own conclusion that I'd feel safer at home with him, for at least the next few days, I smile back at him.

"I don't want to go. I've only been going two days, but I'm skipping the next few. At least until the nomads pass through. I want to be here with you and it's looking like my evenings are getting a little crowded. I'm not going tomorrow."

He opens his mouth to protest, but I silence him with a hand in front of his face.

"Nope, no buts allowed. I'm not going, and you can't make me!" I raise my eyebrows at him, willing him to try to argue with that. The idea hadn't occurred to me until a few minutes ago, but I already feel more calm which tells me that this is a good idea. I think Jasper feels it too, because he only searches my expression for another couple seconds before his posture relaxes, I can tell that he is pleased as well.

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

What I wouldn't do to lie here all evening with her. She doesn't seem ready to move either. Rosalie has been steadily working on setting her training room downstairs with the mats she bought earlier and I can tell that she's getting impatient, but I can put her off for at least a little longer. Waiting for her to get home was hell, and Rosalie deserves a little time to think about what she's done. I would never have asked this of Alice, but somehow she just knew that it was what I needed. On a normal day I have a hard enough time letting her go while retaining my sanity, but with the nomads out there somewhere close, I could hardly bear it today.

I nearly attacked Edward without waiting for an explanation when he pulled into the garage without Alice. I didn't even care what had happened for a moment, just that he was responsible for bringing her back and didn't. The only thing that stopped me was the need to know where Alice was and the realization that he held that information. When he told me that Rosalie had taken her on some unplanned trip, I just about ran into town right then to go find them, but they somehow managed to talk me down.

Apparently Alice had agreed to it, and I know that if I keep ignoring her wishes she won't continue to tolerate my presence in her life. I know that micromanaging her safety isn't the way to show her that I trust and respect her, but it's the only way I know to protect something, or someone, important to me.

Now that she's agreed to at least take a break, and I won't let it be too long unless it's what she really wants, I feel much better about the whole situation, and I can feel that she does too. She had to prove to herself, if no one else, that she could do school in zero to sixty fashion, but I can see that it's been taking a toll on her. Going instantly from barely interacting with humans to having to sit through six classes with a bunch of sexually charged adolescents was more than she should have expected of herself. Even though she could obviously handle it, it seemed unnecessary to try to get used to it all at once. A break could only help.

It doesn't help that her decision brings her home with me all day for the next few; I couldn't bring myself to make much of an effort to talk her out of it, even if I knew I should at least make an attempt. Needless to say, more than a few of my motivations for encouraging her to stay are selfish.

Finally, when I can't take the pacing directly below our room any longer, I reluctantly meet her eyes, drawing both of our attention away from our hands joined between us. Even the simplest gesture of holding hands is new to me, an intimate symbol of friendship I don't remember having ever participated in, although I imagine I probably did as a child.

"I think Rosalie is about to come up here and drag you down pretty soon. We've been up here for over an hour and she's getting impatient."

I feel her reluctance and I know that she's almost as tempted as I am to refuse Rosalie, but we both know that is both easier said than done and particularly unwise in this instance, so I promise her that I'll listen in to make sure she doesn't need me. She opens the door to go down and retrieve her clothing for their session, but finds it deposited, along with her backpack and another bag, outside her door. When I see it I remember Emmett's footsteps earlier headed by the room on his way up the stairs. I had heard him set down something, but I hadn't known what it was.

She glances inside the bigger of the two bags and blushes. I can't imagine what she has in there that is making her react like that, but I've realized that Alice is pretty easily embarrassed, which I remind myself of to stop the parade of ideas as to what the bag could hold.

She walks to the bathroom door, still carrying the larger bag and pauses, still blushing.

"Um, Jasper, if you wouldn't mind, could you not look when I come out? Rosalie bought this… _thing_" she emphasizes the word, her distaste clearly written on her face, "for me to wear and it isn't nearly a dress. If you wouldn't mind… I'd rather you not see it…"

Her description has my curiosity more that piqued, but I could never say no to her, especially to something like this, so I nod solemnly, knowing that even though I could almost certainly peek without her knowing, that I would not, out of respect for her choice. She disappears into the bathroom and I walk to the window seat I'm becoming quite accustomed to, sitting with my back to the rest of the room. It isn't dark enough yet that I can see the reflection of the room through the glass, so I figure this is as good a perch as any. I don't want to leave on the off chance that I run into her before she's ready to see me, so this seems like the best compromise. I can also keep careful tabs of her right downstairs from here, the window easily carrying from the room Rosalie set up downstairs.

I'm not sure how I feel about her taking it upon herself to teach Alice how to defend herself. On the one hand, it makes sense. If she is ever in a situation that she can handle, it makes sense to teach her how to carry herself so that she can get out of it safely. On the other hand, however, I'm afraid that it might embolden her to put herself in situations that might lead to fights she can't win without the support she needs. Even if I decide that it would be good for her, I'm jealous that I can't be the one to teach her. There are so many things she needs to learn that I can't teach her, things like Esme's conversation with me earlier, but this is something I can do well. I'm sure that Rosalie is good, but no one knows self defense like I do. Unfortunately, I am part of the category she feels the need to defend from, and I know that there is no way she would be able to work with me, especially in the beginning. I've heard enough of her past and she, undoubtedly, has seen enough of mine to make that an impossible for her to see my violent side, even in self defense instruction, in a light that she would be able to focus and learn from.

I know that it isn't something I could help, but I can't help but feel like I'm shirking my responsibility in allowing Rosalie to teach her. I'm also more than a little worried about what she might do or say, both with this and in general. I'm thankful that she and Alice have come to some sort of agreement, but that doesn't mean I trust her to know the right thing to say. She and Alice may have similar stories, but they couldn't be more different in how they deal with them.

I hear the door open behind me and smile at the timid footsteps I hear. She hesitates at the door before opening it fully, probably checking to see that I'm not looking, before opening it the rest of the way and walking… the wrong way, toward my seat rather than the door to the hallway. Is she trying to drive me crazy?

She comes to stand behind me, my eyes intently focused on a random bush in the front yard in order to force my eyes away from the magnetic pull she has on me. When she speaks, it's in a whisper.

"I'm nervous."

It's strange to respond without turning around, but I force myself to focus on her words alone.

"It'll be alright. It's nothing to be afraid of. She's been where you are, she's just trying to help you out."

I'm not entirely confident in my own words, but I hope them to be true.

"Um, Jasper, you can turn around if you want. I figured I shouldn't just wear that thing around the house with the others anyway."

I turn to her slowly, mentally preparing myself for whatever she could have meant by that statement, my rational side hoping that to mean she is wearing her normal clothes and my wild imagination conjuring up all sorts of alternative meanings.

She is wearing that damn robe over whatever Rosalie chose for her. It doesn't make it better; it makes it so much worse. My eyes sweep her body without my permission and a blush rises to her cheeks. This is so not the time for behaving like a teenage boy, but my mind is gone and I'm having a difficult time reigning it back in. The robe hangs loosely from her too-small shoulders, the sleeves covering her shoulders down to past her hands. Her sharp collarbones hold the fabric just far enough away from her skin that I can see the neckline of dark colored fabric beneath. The tie is pulled tight around her tiny waist, but it's shifted just enough in her walking that I can trace her bare feet up to mid calf before they're covered with some sort of tight, opaque, soft looking material. I can barely see the lines of her clothing underneath the thin, flowing fabric of the robe, but from what I can see it looks like the outfit is generally small and tight. She's going to be the death of me.

I can't help the lowest growl that escapes at the thought that she might run into any of the other residents of the house looking so ravishing. I more or less trust any of them not to act on it, but I don't want them to even see her. I realize that I haven't spoken for a while and probably need to say something.

"Do you want me to walk you down there? I don't have to stay if you don't want me to, but I can keep you company on the way."

It's a more than ridiculous question, she's only going downstairs, but I would feel better knowing that she didn't run into anyone on the way and I hope that my question distracted from the real reason I'm so set on it.

She's still blushing a little under my earlier scrutiny and it's fascinating and impossibly more attractive.

"Um, yeah. I think that would make me feel better. But I think you shouldn't stay. I don't know what she has planned."

I'm not sure what that means, but I got what I asked for, the ability to walk her down, so I don't question it. I stand up slowly, keeping my movements tightly regulated away from my compulsion to crush her lips to mine and drag her back to the bed. I offer her my arm in, what I hope, is a gentlemanly fashion, trying to convince myself more than her that I am able to act in such a way. She hooks her arm in mine and I feel the slight tremor there, whether from my earlier actions or her upcoming session I'm unsure. I put my other hand gently over hers and we walk out like that down to the small room off of the dining room that Rosalie has appropriated as her own. I'm more than a little relieved that the others seem to have made themselves scarce in this part of the house.

Although I know she heard us leave the room together, Rosalie still rolls her eyes dramatically when I come into the room along with Alice.

"Yes, yes, I know, be careful with her and don't have her home past dark. Now go away, we have work to do."

With that I give Alice one last, long, glance, trying to make sure that she's actually alright with this. When I see the slight resolve in her eyes I pull my arm away, kissing her lightly on the forehead and making my way back upstairs.

If I thought having her gone into town all day was terrible, having her right downstairs and being unable to go to her is much worse.

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

"Okay, let's get going. Off with that robe thing and let's get warmed up." I examine Rosalie's attire for the first time. Her outfit is different than mine, a tight, light blue fitted shirt with a short skirt in beige. It's more revealing than mine, but not by much. I shed the robe carefully and glance one last time at the strange assortment of clothing I'm wearing. The long, almost tights-like material on my legs is strange, but the most comfortable part of the ensemble to me. The fitted shirt in dark purple is only partially covered by a light, loose fabric of silver gray that comes only almost to my knees and is barely existent in its weight and cut.

"You'll get used to it. It's easier to train in less restrictive clothing, especially in the beginning. If the situation warranted it, you would be willing to mess up or tear one of your dresses, but since it's just training, there's no reason to ruin them now. Trust me; you'll be glad for it by the time we're done."

I highly doubt that, but I tear my eyes away from my reflection to meet her eyes in the mirror. She nods decisively and sits down behind me, forcing me to turn away from the mirror to be able to see her.

She starts into a few stretches, getting up and correcting me when I'm getting something wrong, while expanding her explanation of what I should expect. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't terrified by all of it, but some small part of me is excited, also. Even if I never needed to use it, knowing that I have the ability to protect myself sounds freeing.

After a few more stretches, she pulls me to my feet.

"Okay, first things first, we're starting early on this and working on it every session. You need to know how to get out of holds. The obvious preference would be not to let someone get that close to you in the first place, but if it happens, I need to know that you won't shut down on me. If the attacker approaches you from the front, you have plenty of options. First, always, you should make it clear that you don't want the person to get any closer. Once they've been warned and continue on their course of action, you are typically viewed as having the option to use force to keep them away. If you get backed into a wall, you can use the support of the wall behind you to get in a solid hit to the face. You should use the heel of your hand, like this, and aim for the nose."

There are at least four other specific techniques for this situation, but before I know it she's finished the discussion and seems to be on to the demonstration. Keeping her speed decidedly human, although still fast, she backs me into the wall, putting one hand on the wall next to my face, over my shoulder, and the other still at her side. Although it's Rosalie, I can't help but feel the sense of déjà vu at being trapped. I search frantically around the room, my eyes falling on her again.

"Pull yourself together, Alice. It's me, you're safe. Take a deep breath and think, how do you get out?"

Disregarding all of her previous lesson, my mind quickly decides to bolt to the left, the side open without her arm on the wall. Before I can so much as take a step she grabs me roughly by the shoulder and slams me back into place.

"No." She says, simply, and I know it to mean that she wants me to use one of the methods she tried to teach me. I just can't quite remember what she said when my heart is racing with the knowledge that I am trapped, no matter by whom.

"Rosalie, I can't-"

"Yes you can. You're trapped. What do you do?"

Something tugs on the edge of my consciousness, but I don't entertain it. Vision or memory, I have no time for it right now.

"I don't know. Just let me go."

"No. If you're pinned, it's too late to negotiate; the attacker is already committed to the action. Earlier you make your demands forcefully, 'don't come any closer' or 'stay there', but now, it's too late for talking. What do you do now?"

I shake my head, trying to convince her to be done with our 'training' for today, but she doesn't seem convinced. She moves her other hand to my shoulder, pressing it against the wall behind me, hard.

"What do you do now, Alice?"

I remember something about the instep or something, so I make a halfhearted attempt at stepping on the inside of her ankle. It certainly wouldn't have been functional in a real situation, but it seems to pacify her for the moment and she steps away.

"Good enough for today, but I expect better tomorrow. Come here; let's run through a few basic hits. I'll take it easy on you at first, but as we go on I won't be as careful with you, so you'll have to step up. Also, tomorrow we'll start on getting out of holds if the person is behind you."

I'm not sure how much longer I spend downstairs with Rosalie, but by the time she allows me to leave, I feel as though all of the muscles in my body are about to give out. The room sways threateningly and the last few times I blacked out for a second getting up off the ground. I can't tell if Rosalie saw it or not, but she seemed content with our first day and let me go. I halfheartedly pull the robe back on over my drenched outfit and drag myself directly upstairs and into my shower.

I don't notice Jasper in the room, so I assume he stepped out long enough for me to get cleaned up, or he went out for another hunt. I don't know how long I've been downstairs, but not going to school tomorrow means I don't care as much. I turn on the warm water and sink down to the floor of the shower. I lie there, letting it cleanse me. The steam is soothing to my overworked lungs and the water seems to wash away the grime of the day and assuage my burning muscles. My face feels warmer than ever against the hard, cool marble of the shower, the smooth surface serving to ground me to the present and cause the swaying of the room to abate.

If I'm going to survive Rosalie's sessions, I'm going to have to eat more. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I know that I'm probably working all of the extra energy off anyway, but in all my learned calculations, I haven't learned how to compare energy use and food. My usual plan has been simple; do only what is required and eat as little as necessary to accomplish that. I'm not sure how to adjust my diet to these new demands on my energy, but I know that my current plan isn't going to work. I have no doubt that Rosalie will run me through the drills with our without any energy source on my part, so I had better make an effort or I'm going to be miserable.

I pull myself off of the bottom of the shower and reluctantly pull on the cotton nightdress I'd laid out on the counter. I check my reflection one last time and head back into the bedroom, my muscles protesting and my eyes already half closed. It's gotten very dark and I didn't leave my room light on, but I fall forward into my bed, content that the coast is probably clear.

I hear him move, just slightly, when I'm settled. A second later I feel his hand running through my damp hair.

"Hi Darlin', how was it?"

My face is comfortably enveloped in my pillow, so I don't feel the need to answer any farther than an exhausted sigh.

"Hmmm, that good," he teases, his hands continuing to pull through my hair.

I move my head just enough to be able to speak understandably.

"She's a demon, I'm not going to be able to walk tomorrow."

He chuckles quietly as if I'm kidding and doesn't answer. I try to give him my best mean look, but it probably doesn't translate well with my face still smashed into the pillow.

"You'll be glad for it in the end when you feel like you can stand up for yourself."

I'm not sure I'm ever going to feel confident enough to make a move to defend myself, no matter how much training we do, but I don't feel like voicing my dissent. Unfortunately, I forget that Jasper can still feel it.

"You will. I just wish that I could teach you myself. We'll always be there if you need us, but it's a good feeling not to need help, even if it's available."

Too tired to continue the conversation, I throw my arm over his lap and push my pillow close to his leg so I can feel the cold radiating through it. The cool is comfortable after the overheating from the bath and I don't even form a coherent goodnight before I'm asleep.


	36. Moonlight

Sorry for the forever long delay, I was feeling a little discouraged after last chapter, but an email from one of my dear readers picked me up enough for this chapter- this one's for vc :)

Manda

Chapter 36

*_*_*_*_Jasper*_*_*_*_*

She's finally asleep. It's been a long and trying day, but she's finally here with me, safe and within my reach. It calms my nerves. Her breathing evens out quickly and I can tell that she's more peaceful than usual. I hope that the exhaustion of her day causes her to rest well. What a pair Rosalie and I are, each scrutinizing the other, questioning the other's methods or intentions. Alice is too kind to both of us; I don't know how she stands it. I look down at the tiny woman sprawled across the bed. I push her arm down a few inches, she is well and truly asleep, but her last few shifts in her sleep have started her arm wandering up higher across my thighs, so I move it carefully back toward my knees where it was originally located.

I hear heavy footsteps in the hallway and the door clicks open, the hinges quietly protesting their use. I look up to find an uncharacteristically calm looking Emmett with a very characteristic grin on his face. It's enough to make me wonder if he somehow knows about my readjustment of Alice's arm only a few moments ago, but whatever the reason for his smile, he doesn't share it with me. I can feel from his emotions that although his demeanor is confident, he is looking for any sign that I don't want him there and he'll leave. I nod over to the window seat where I usually pass my time and his smile gets bigger as he lumbers over and sits himself down. Although the action seems thunderously loud to my ears, Alice doesn't even flinch, so it must not have been that noisy.

I speak quietly, hoping that I can manage to steer the tone of the conversation to something quiet enough to allow Alice to get her sleep.

"So, Emmett, what can I do for you?"

"How is she holding up? Going to take a little time off of school already?"

"Yes, just until I'm sure of the location of the nomads. I don't want to take any unnecessary chances and I think a break will be good for her. She's had to jump into everything pretty quickly."

I don't feel the need to defend the decision to Emmett, only to fill him in on enough to answer his question.

"Yeah, she's a fighter though. She and Rose aren't so different, when you get past all of her jumpiness."

"Something like that happened to Rosalie too, right?" I can't bring myself to clarify further than 'something like that', as if avoiding the words somehow might make them untrue. He doesn't seem to need further clarification.

"Yeah, it was why she was turned."

"Were you there in the beginning? Did you know her before then?"

"No, I came after her, a few years after she was turned. I'd been out hiking and was mauled by a bear. She was barely out of newborn years and managed to carry me back to the house and demand that I be changed."

"Impressive."

"I know. But no, I wasn't there in the beginning. No one ever really talks about it, I think they all had a hard time adjusting at first, she was dying when they found her and when she woke up she was pissed. She never wanted this life, she was angry that the choice was made for her. It made everything difficult for a while, I guess until she found me in the woods, and that gave her someone else to focus on."

"Do you ever wonder what she was like before that?"

"Not really. She remembers some of it. She was sort of shallow back then. If I could have chosen immortality for her without such a high price of that night, I would have, but without it she wouldn't be who she is now and she certainly wouldn't have been changed. I wouldn't have her if not for that night. It changed her, but it woke her up too, and eventually it brought her to me."

"I wonder what Alice was like before everything."

"Man, you can't do that to yourself. Its part of who she is now and it'll get easier, but it'll never go away."

"I think she was only a little kid. She told me that he was human, and she was changed pretty young."

"There are some sick people out there. I can't imagine."

"How do you do it? How do you go about every day knowing what happened to her? I'm afraid to let her out of my sight, afraid that someone else will hurt her or even pick on her or look down on her. I'm driving myself crazy trying to protect her from everyone because at some point there was no one there for her and he got to her."

My attention shifts to the window behind his head, my gaze intense. I feel like the thing might crack under the pressure of my glare.

"One step at a time. You can't just let him win, she's stronger than she knows, and your job is to help her figure that out. You can rescue her in every situation for the rest of eternity, but it isn't going to be helping her, it'll just help you feel better. If you really want to help her, you need to teach her how to help herself and prove to her that she's able. I know Rosalie can come across a little bit strong, but that's what she's trying to accomplish with the training downstairs. She just wants Alice to feel like she can control a situation like that, because the truth is, she can."

"I don't want her to ever be in a situation where she has to defend herself."

"You can't make that call for her. She has to be able to do her own thing, decide for herself, and then feel safe enough to act on her decisions. She can't heal if she doesn't have to work at it."

"I have no idea what I'm doing with her. My world has been military for so long. I feel like a wild animal being put in charge of a nursery. If it was anyone else, I wouldn't care that I was messing this all up, but it's her."

He chuckles to himself, none to quietly. "Jasper, if that statement wasn't proof of a mate bond, I don't know what is. Can you really not see it?"

I cut my eyes to his face, irritated that he's baiting me. He seems to get the message and he does his best to rearrange his features into a more neutral expression, but I can tell that he is still amused. I roll my eyes at his antics, still more than a little irritated. Although I respect Emmett's experience in this area, I can tell that this conversation is probably not going to continue much longer, especially if he can't wipe that amused smirk off his face.

Luckily for him, he doesn't get the chance to continue in his train of thought as he's interrupted by Alice shifting in her sleep. Her breathing is picking up and I wonder if I should wake her. I know that she hasn't been getting much sleep lately and I don't want to interrupt her rest unnecessarily, but I don't want to let a nightmare continue, either. I don't get much help from Emmett as he leaves me to decide, but I do hear him trying to rally the others for a hunting trip. I take a deep breath, knowing that he'll be back in to try to recruit me before long.

*_*_*_*_Carlisle*_*_*_*_*

"Esme, lovely, how was your day?" The hospital has been busy with a nasty flu that's been going around and I'm home late, again. My wonderful wife doesn't say anything about it, as usual, but I know that it bothers her when I'm gone so much longer than I already work.

She sits down on the edge of the bed, moving her hair off the back of her neck in a request for me to unclasp her necklace. I do so and she carefully places it on the dresser, flicking off the lights before returning to sit on the bed next to me. The absence of the fluorescent light makes little difference to our sight, but it's part of the routine, and it's familiar, even if unnecessary. Every night we get ready for bed, turn off the light, and settle in to talk as if we really were getting settled down to go to sleep. Some nights we talk all night, some we just lay together, others we find ourselves… otherwise engaged. Whatever we do, the nights are our time to spend together and reconnect. I get through days like this by looking forward to these hours with my wife. I've always missed being able to sleep, but I wouldn't give up these nights with my wife, even for the ability to sleep and dream again.

"It was interesting, if nothing else." She finally responds, snaking her arm around my waist and pulling herself closer.

"Really, did your client finally call back on the order?"

"No, it was actually much more unexpected. I was home with Jasper, and I was thinking back about the last few days they've been with us. It made me realize that we've been so focused on Alice that we haven't really had much time to interact with Jasper. I wanted him to know that we were glad that he was here too, not just that we were glad he brought Alice here. He's had a hard time of things too, and it's just so hard to include him when he's so used to being on the outside looking in. I feel as though we're going to be able to help and incorporate Alice without much trouble, with our experience as a family with similar issues, but we're going to have to work a little harder with him. None of us can really identify with him like we want to, and I think it's going to be difficult, so I wanted to make sure that we got started on it now.

"I asked him to talk with me, and I told him that I was glad he was here. I mean, it might not have meant anything to him, but I wanted him to hear it from me, either way. I also told him that all of us in the house have some experience with the sort of issues Alice is dealing with, and therefore also the sort of things he's trying to accomplish for her, and that we'd all be willing to help out in any way we can. I don' think he's comfortable with attention on himself for very long, not emotional attention, anyways, so we mainly talked about Alice.

"I wanted him to understand what I was talking about, so I told him some of my story and he wanted to know how I was different from Rosalie, always lashing out at people if I'd been through what I said I had. I had to tell him the truth, just what you told me. That I couldn't move on until I found the strength to forgive, even if that doesn't excuse responsibility for the wrong things he did."

I'm curious to see where this is going. I doubt Jasper took that advice well, considering his background and experiences, but I've visually examined my wife from her toes to her light pink nightdress and every other inch of skin and I don't see any sign of injury.

"I don't imagine he approved of your suggestion?" I ask, trying to coax her back to the conversation from her thoughts, the faraway look in her eyes fading again.

"No, he didn't. He told me that he didn't care about his peace of mind, but that he would consider my advice for Alice. Does it really do Alice any good to forgive him if Jasper's going to hunt him down and kill him? I don't know if it would still be cathartic to tell him at his grave."

"I doubt whoever hurt her is still alive. Partly because of Jasper, but also because she behaves as if these are old wounds. I bet whoever she's remembering is long gone."

Her responses match a lot of cases I've seen, so I hope that's the case. I know Esme will be upset if she finds out anyone in our family hunted him down and killed him, even if it was Jasper.

"I hope so. Both of them could use a little peace of mind. When the kids came home from school, Alice and Rose didn't come. Rosalie took Alice on some sort of strange shopping trip for training mats and workout clothing so she could start her in self defense lessons. I think I missed something, because I have no idea why Rose even decided on this or why Alice let her, but either way, she seemed to do pretty well in her first lesson. I think Rosalie plans on her and me working with her for a while and then eventually incorporating the men, to help work on her fears. I don't know if it is a good idea, but Rose is set on it."

"You have had an eventful day, haven't you? What did Jasper do when the other two came home without her?"

"About what you'd expect. He nearly took Emmett's head off when he exited the car without her and they barely got through an explanation in time. I thought he was going to go after Rose when she brought her back, but he was so intent on Alice that he all but forgot her. It's amazing to see those two around one another."

"I know what you mean. They're clearly meant for one another, I guess opposites attract after all."

"Do you really think the nomads you were looking into are as dangerous as Jasper thinks? We've run into our kind over the years and never had any major trouble, why would this time be different?"

"I don't know. They may be young and are certainly careless, which could be a problem, either for the humans in town or even for Alice, if they get too close. That in itself makes them more dangerous and unpredictable than any of the others we've encountered. I guess we'll see soon. Given their traveling patterns, I expected them to be here today, so maybe tomorrow we'll find that they've already passed through. Although I plan on warning them if I see them, I don't think I'll track them down if they miss us. The Volturi will take care of them soon enough and I don't want to possibly risk Alice unnecessarily."

"I guess that's wise. I wish we could step in to stop the bloodshed, but I guess they'll be killing to feed either way, it's just a matter of how clean they are."

"I'm afraid you're right."

She nestles into my chest and I lean back, taking her with me, until we're lying together on the bed, each lost in our own thoughts. I hear the creak of the door from upstairs, but I don't pay any attention. It's pretty late, but that doesn't matter much in a house of vampires.

I wonder if Rosalie knows what she's doing. I've been carried away with work lately and I haven't been around, but my reasoning is partly because of Alice. I want her to feel safe in the house, and for some reason she still distrusts me. I have some ideas of my own as to how she might move forward in her recovery, but I know that they won't be well received from me, not yet, so I hang back.

When Rosalie came into the family, it was more like adopting a vindictive outlaw- especially for the first few years- than a daughter. Now, with Alice, I feel as though we've been given another chance, but even though the rest of the family is making progress with her, I still feel obligated to stay back. I would love to be able to just spend time with her and Jasper, get to know the two newest members of my family, but Jasper is still hard to engage without Alice present and Alice is terrified of me. I thought we were making progress after the trip into town a few days ago, but every time I've seen her in the house since she's seemed startled and once even left the room.

I'm not sure what makes me uniquely the subject of her mistrust, although I have theories. It could just be that I'm still unfamiliar, as she's been with the others more, between going to school with the boys and Rosalie and having breakfast with Esme. I might also be connected in her mind to her past abuser, in whatever way; it could be as simple as some physical similarity or even a certain turn of phrase. I've also considered that being the male authority figure of the house may have something to do with it. Whatever the reason, I hope that I can overcome in someday soon and be able to get to know my new daughter and her chosen mate.

"She sure is something, isn't she, Carlisle?"

It's as if she's reading my thoughts. I look down to find her gazing at the east wall, toward the guest bedroom.

"Yes, love. They both are. I wish there was more we could do."

"Scars aren't just physical and mental, darling. There is much to healing that can't be assisted or predicted. They need to find their own way more than they need us to show it to them."

"Maybe you're right; I just wish I could be of some help."

"It bothers you that she still hasn't come around to you."

It isn't a question, after a hundred years together she knows me as well as my mind reading son.

"She will, love. All in time."

Next chapter is big, please tell me what you think :)


	37. Blink

Well, here it is. You all are so incredible, thank you for your response last chapter. Because of it, I've decided not to put off this chapter anymore... this is the one I've been nervous about, so please let me know what you think. Thank you again to everyone who reviewed last chapter even though it's been so long. This one is for each of you :)

Chapter 37

*_*_*_*_Alice*_*_*_*_*_*

The next time I awaken, the room is pitch black. I think I've dreamed again, but I don't bother to try to remember. If it isn't readily in my mind, I find no reason to chase after it. I probably don't want to know.

I look around, but I don't see Jasper. I'm not tired anymore, so I decide to get some fresh air. I imagine I'll run into Jasper before too long, so I don't worry about trying to find him to let him know.

I pull one of my day dresses over my head, making myself somewhat presentable before I leave the room. I pull my hair back in a messy braid and head downstairs. The first floor is dark as well, everyone in their rooms or away, I can't tell which. I know that they can probably hear me, but no one seems concerned enough to come out or they are all away, which seems unlikely. Before I make it to the first step I hear footsteps. Esme pops her head out of her bedroom door and asks if I want company, but I decline. I'm hungry, as always, and decide to spare a small snack while I can do so without an audience or disapproval if I don't eat enough.

I duck into the kitchen, grabbing an apple and chopping it into tiny cubes. I throw away the core and gather half of the apple, bagging it and throwing it into the refrigerator, and carefully collect the other half in one hand to take along with me. I don't usually allow myself to eat while doing something else, as it's easier to forget if it isn't all you're doing at the time. I usually make sure to keep it more intentional, but after my mysterious dream, I'm feeling like I need to get out of the house.

I put a cube of apple in my mouth, sucking on it lightly and enjoying the tart flavor as I reach for the kitchen door. It isn't locked, as if there's any reason for it to be. After dismissing Esme's concern and promising to stay close, I finally make it out of the house. I find out that Jasper and the boys are out hunting and I can't stay in any longer. I pull on a light jacket, I think of Esme's, and head out the door.

Oddly enough, the second I set foot outside, Rosalie appears. I hope she doesn't have any more of her earlier tortures in mind, but she doesn't seem to. She asks if she should come with me and I tell her no. She warns me to stay close or face Jasper's wrath, which is probably fair. I take a few steps out onto the front lawn, taking in the change of scenery compared to the artificial light of the kitchen. The chilly night air surrounds me as soon as I cross the threshold. It's cooler than the house, but I don't go back for my warmer jacket, it feels nice against the flush of my skin from sleep.

I'm not afraid of getting lost, not so close to the house, so I wander freely into the woods. The boys should be back within another hour or so, so I imagine Jasper will be out to lecture me about straying with the mysterious nomads still on the loose, but I figure I'll be easy for him to find, meandering around the woods until then.

The moon is out but the clouds are thick, making the darkness almost complete under the cover of the trees. Without enhanced sight I would be completely blind, but as it is I can still only see in shades of gray. I hum to myself, enjoying the silence and solitude of the woods. I haven't been alone since the moment I found Jasper over a week ago and it's been more taxing than I realized, especially with Edward's ability to read my mind. I know that Rose and Esme are still at the house, but I've wandered far enough away from them also that I doubt they can still hear me walking. It's sort of freeing, more than I expected. I've been alone for so long that I was desperate for company, but now that I have it I realize that I still need time alone. I take a deep, long breath of the cool, damp air and focus on the small crunch of leaves under my feet, the insects in the night air, the light steps of a deer nearby, and the small sound of the brook by the edge of the property. Everything is serene, almost everyone else asleep. I don't recognize the song I'm humming, but I imagine I've heard it somewhere or it wouldn't be in my head now.

I think about Jasper. He's really turned my life upside down in only a few short weeks, but somehow I know that he's it for me. Even with the visions I still held out some doubt, doubt that I'd ever have the courage to meet him, doubt that my visions would really show him for that reason, doubt that he could ever be worth my trust, especially after what I'd seen of him, but he's all I could imagine and more. I have no idea what he feels for me, but I hope it's something. I'm still humming that odd tune, but I don't give any more effort to trying to place it. The others say he acts a certain way around me, but what would they know, they didn't know him before; none of us did. For all they know-

That last sound, the crack of that twig, something isn't right. I haven't heard anything approaching, not until just a second ago, I should have heard any forest animal before right now, either their breathing or their approach. Something is wrong.

I can feel my heart rate speeding up, the hair on the back of my neck instinctively rising and my eyes darting around the forest.

As soon as my eyes fall on the area where I heard the noise I spot him. I can't see him well in the dark, but my first instinct is to run to him. I see the blond hair and the odd smirk and feel silly for being surprised, seeing as I'm out here waiting for him to come back. On second glance, the smile falls from my face. It isn't Jasper, he's just a little too short, his hair is too long, his stride is different, and yet somehow I still know him.

My mind supplies a name before I have time to find the memory it belongs to. It's as if I've always known, even though I realize I haven't used the information or remembered that I carried it for over fifty years. Now that I remember, I know that I've always known, but at the same time I know that I would've never retrieved the information on my own, not without him standing there in front of me. I haven't thought of him in years.

"James." It's all I can manage as the memories assail me, each worse than the one before. I swallow hard and take a step back, as if my body remembers the danger before my mind does.

"Mary? Is that really you? I was told you were dead."

If I have never believed his words before, I believe that. He would've never let me go if he knew. Leaving the house alone was the stupidest thing I've ever done, and it may well be the last.

"What are you doing here?" I can hear the waiver in my voice and I hate it. I know that he hears it too, his expression breaks into a wide smile, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

"I was just passing through, but then I stumbled on a familiar scent I didn't think it was possible, but I had to come see for myself. I have to say, Mary, you look awful. Does your new fling not feed you?"

I've been slowly backing up, but I've run out of room. I have a massive tree at my back, and a slowly advancing maniac in front of me. I have to buy time before the others return, but my mind is blank in panic. I try to process something to respond to his comment, but I can't focus long enough to piece together what he said, much less what my response should be.

"James" I repeat, stupidly, still trying to process the fact that this man is here, standing in front of me, looking exactly like the last time I saw him, and I had forgotten him until exactly one minute ago.

I can't believe that I'd forgotten who he was, how could anyone just forget something like that? I don't even think about where I am or who I'm with, I collapse into the tree behind me and my mind drags me back toward the two houses of my forgotten nightmares. It's dark, always dark, and so cold. I feel the cold of the air, the cold of the floor, the cold of the body above me, the cold of the grip on my wrists, the cold of the cement floor against my back, everything is so cold.

_I can hear the honey sweet lies coming from his mouth but I can't make out any words, I don't want to hear them again. He's telling me what I did to deserve it this time, how grateful I should be that he's going easy on me in my punishment, how I should be enjoying his attention. I'm shivering, but I have nowhere to go. It hasn't been light out for days, I'm starting to think that I've died, but I don't know what terrible thing I've done to deserve this hell. I can't let myself actually believe that I've died; because I hold out hope that whatever comes next must be better._

_Nothingness, torture, anything would be better than this. I try to take a deep breath and clear my mind, but his weight holds me down. I don't try to scream, don't even struggle. I know by now that no one will hear me, no one whose attention I want to gain, at least. If I scream he'll be encouraged, I may even draw Laurent's attention, so I am silent; the only sound in the cold, echoing room is the harsh metallic of his body, unbreakable, in the process of breaking mine._

"Yes, Sweet. James. You must have been so lost without me all these years. Don't worry, though, we'll get that remedied in no time. I imagine the house in Alaska is right how we left it, you think? I bet I'll have to dump the red demon if I want to take you again; you two never really got along before. Maybe that's what happened before; it was the witch who told me you were dead. Not a mistake I'll make twice."

Of all the things to zero in on it's odd, but I'm fairly sure to whom that nickname belongs, and somehow the idea of both of them together seems much more treacherous than him alone.

"Victoria?" I squeak, beyond berating myself for looking scared, he can tell that I'm terrified even if I lie.

"Yes, Doll. Red never really liked you, but saying you were dead was just too far, even for her. I'll find a way to give her the slip. I might keep the other around though; he seemed to enjoy you the last time. It's always more fun to have company."

I know I'm sounding like a broken record, or some sort of demented windup toy, but I can't stop myself from asking, even if I wanted to.

"Laurent?"

"Yes, child, Laurent. You didn't think I'd replace _him_ so quickly, did you? Actually, we even have a house in Canada for the way up; maybe we'll stay there for a week or two on the way. You can't very well travel the whole way like this."

Travel. He's going to take me with him. Jasper.

"You can't take me, Jasper will come for me." I take a second to congratulate myself on a coherent sentence before I second guess telling him. Should I have kept it to myself to give him the chance to give chase?

"Ooh, a game! That's even better, Little Black. I'll take you for a few days, re-teach you some things, fill you out a bit and give you back! That will be great fun, you're not very fun to find, but I bet you and your beau could give me quite the chase. What a wonderful idea, Mary. We'll do that. You think he can find you up at the upper providence house? I hope he's as good as you think he is. I'll be terribly disappointed if he's boring or human or dull. He isn't, is he?"

My mind is still reeling, now when I need it the most. He's going to take me, there's nothing anyone can do about it, and he's going to bait Jasper into a chase too. I'm relieved that he's going to let me go, I can survive a set amount of time, but even then it's only the beginning. He'll follow us until we go mad; eventually Jasper will decide I'm not worth it, won't he? Before I can consider my next move, he's too close. He picks me up, cradling me as if I'm a child.

It's all coming back to me fast. His scent, his unnecessary breathing, the pounding of his footsteps, it's all familiar. I can feel myself breathing too fast and I know I'm hyperventilating, but I can't talk myself down from this one, I will not be fine, so I let it take me. I can see the black at the sides of my vision and the dark spots dancing across my eyes. It won't be long now. He's talking again, but I don't hear it. I feel the heat rising over my throat and face and it seems to be choking me, the world is spinning and I feel sick, but I welcome the blackness. Maybe I'll die; it'll save everyone some trouble.

It's dark, but I don't expect it to be. I was at the park... no, in the forest... or was I with Jasper? Either way, it shouldn't be dark, I don't remember going to sleep, which is the only reason I wouldn't remember. I feel as if I'm returning slowly to my body, my head last. It still feels as if it's floating above me somewhere and I feel the heat on my chest and neck still putting pressure on my breathing. My head is throbbing and I feel as though I might be sick. Where am I? Why don't I know? As feeling returns I make a realization, my eyes are closed. I don't remember closing them, but I decide that the easiest way to get some answers would be to look around.

It's bright and I'm laying still. I can see the dust filtering through the sunlight, but the windows seem to be boarded up, the light is in harsh lines between the wood. I don't recognize where I am, but how I got here is all coming back to me now. James. How the hell could I have forgotten him for all these years? More importantly, where is he now? I turn my head slowly, the dizziness still fading, and come face to face with the glassy eyes of a teenage boy, probably not yet out of high school. His heart isn't beating and his neck has been snapped but he hasn't been dead long. I know what this is. It's a meal that I can't refuse. If I waste him, he'll kill more. I say a silent apology to this boy's family and roll carefully over until I'm lying nearly on top of him, my limbs still weak and mostly unresponsive, and put my lips to his throat. Ironically I'm closing a distance I would have fought to keep, had he been alive and at my school just yesterday. The taste stings the back of my throat like a strong wine and I know that I have no choice. Even if he gives me back in a few days my eyes will bare tell of each betrayal, but I won't let him kill another because of my stubbornness.

I drain him and lick the wound, as if willing it to heal itself and him to awaken. I still don't see any sign of James, but I've thought that before. He's stronger and faster than I and his senses are perfect. If I try to run, I'll only make it worse for myself. I am sick of waiting and dreading, however, so I decide to let him know I'm awake. I take a stunted breath and yell his name as loud as I can, and when I don't hear his footsteps immediately I do it again. I don't get the chance to try it a third time, because his sudden appearance in the doorway stops me short.

"Hey Pumpkin, you miss me? I see you finished your lunch. You look better already. Not quite up to my usual standards, but it'll have to do for a reunion, what do you say?"

I'm immediately regretting drawing his attention, but I know that it would have only prolonged the inevitable. I can survive this for a few days, and then I can hide. I know I can't get away from him, but maybe some of the Cullens will help me, even if Jasper doesn't want me anymore.

"James, please don't. Where are the others? I thought they were coming?"

"Turns out I was wrong about Laurent, he wasn't up for some fun. And Red, I got rid of her. She wouldn't have let me keep you, and then she would have whined the whole trip ruining the chase. No, babe, it's only you and me. Depending on how good your boyfriend is I'll keep you for a couple days or a week and then the real fun begins. You think he'll still want you after I have you again? I really hope he doesn't realize you're not worth it. That would ruin my fun. You don't think he will, do you?"

I just stare at him as he jokes about one of my deepest fears. I want to scream at him, hit him, but I know that this calm facade is just an act. One wrong move and he snaps, and then saying hurtful things will be the least of my concerns. I set my jaw and determine to stay silent.

"Well, if you won't tell me I guess I'll find out soon enough. I'll leave you for him for a day or two and if he doesn't come I'll just keep you. Either way is fine with me, either I get a chase followed by getting you back or I just get you back without a fight. Really, what do I have to lose either way? Even if he doesn't come we'll have fun."

I don't respond to his words, but I can't help the slight shaking in my limbs as he pulls me off the ground and carries me by my shoulders over to a dingy mattress in the corner. He knows this is what I hate the most. I didn't remember until now that was the case, but I do now. Anywhere else I can pretend this is as causal and non consensual as it actually is, but I hate when he chooses a bed. It feels like a mockery of intimacy, which is probably exactly how it is intended.

"Now come, my little one. Show me you've missed me and I won't mark you up too badly before I give you back to start the game."

It goes by agonizingly slow and faster than I can respond. I feel, hear, see everything in slow motion, but it's all lost in the returning catalog of times this has happened before. Each action, each sensation is mirrored in my mind dozens of times until I'm unsure of which, if any of them have just happened. It's like I'd forgotten an entire lifetime, and when one has lived for more than one, that may well have been the case. I think I don't respond to him at any point, but he doesn't seem to care. He's rough with me, but I don't cry out. I stay as still as the dead, but staring into the dead man's eyes above me I know that even death isn't enough.

He collapses on me and I'm reminded the real reason I hate confinement. I don't try to move, but I know he feels my pulse accelerating. Another thing he remembered that I didn't. I feel as if this thing knows me better than I do myself. I stare to the side, trying to avoid seeing him as much as I can, but that line of sight affords me a view of the corpse still lying in the middle of the floor and the beautiful blue dress Esme had made for me lying torn on the dirty ground. I can't help the tear that escapes my guard, they all did so much for me, and yet here I am again. Jasper told me not to go out by myself. He's not going to be there to pick me up this time.

I hear the hiss as I turn my head, but it doesn't register until now. I chance a look back at him and find him glaring at my neck. Not him, too? If not for the terrible situation I might laugh, that damn mark is about all anyone pays attention to, but at least I have that of Jasper's.

"You think this is funny, child?" I didn't realize I had giggled out loud like a crazy person until his voice comes out in a growl and I see my mistake.

"No." I respond simply, rearranging my face to a neutral expression.

"You ask your fling for that, whore? Want him to feel like he has some manor of claim to you? He doesn't. I was your first and I'll be your last if I have to finish you tomorrow to prove it to you. You'll never be free of me, I'll always find you."

Before I can respond I feel searing pain as he moves in a blur. Apparently my brain has dimmed this pain in my memory because I never remember it being this bad. I can't help myself, I scream. I know it's what he wants, but I can't help but give it to him. He pulls back most of the venom, but the small amount remaining is enough to keep me in agony as he pulls away and bites again. I bite my lip, hard, to keep from crying out again as I feel him pulling at my blood from the wound in my neck. I can't think about anything else, can't find words or any semblance of meaning with the pain searing through my veins. He seals the wound, enough venom left to keep me in pain but not enough to change me further. My lip is bloody from biting it and he pulls it from between my teeth with his own, capturing me in a forceful kiss.

"Mmm, I missed you after all." He comments to himself, licking my blood from his lips. "I'm going to find you dinner. You'll eat what I bring you when I bring it to you until you go back. It's hardly pleasant to bed a corpse. If you're returned to me in this condition I'll feed you four times a day until you've filled out again, you understand? I'll kill whole towns and feed you only their children if that's what it takes. Don't test me."

I nod in case he's looking for confirmation and he's out the door. I know better than to try to leave and he knows it. He doesn't even have to leave a sentry any more, I just know that I won't get away until he lets me go or someone comes to rescue me, but even then it will play into his plan. I doubt I'll ever be really free of him again. It was only by chance that Victoria convinced him I was dead the first time, and now that he figured it out; my only escape has been closed. There is no jealous vampire to kick me out now, so I'm stuck here, until death do us part. My death.

I glance around the room, trying to avoid looking at myself. I decide to see if I can get my dress back on before I have to survey the carnage that is my body.

The back zipper is torn away from the seam from the neck to mid back, but it's much better than it could have been. I catch a glimpse of my thigh as I step back into the dress and cringe, there is a perfect hand print already turning brilliant purple there and I close my eyes as I stumble back into the dress. I manage to get myself mostly covered using the dress and the light jacket which seems to have survived fairly well. I feel more than uncomfortably full from the first "meal" he brought me, but I know I'm going to have to stomach this one down too. I just hope that he doesn't torment this one too much. He used to make me keep them alive as long as possible; he'd always know if I killed one on purpose. I just couldn't stand their pain, but he seemed to enjoy it almost as much as he enjoyed mine. 

Nervous! let me know what you think :)


	38. Vanished

You all are just so wonderful. Thank you so much for still following my story after my seven year break there. I will do my best to make sure it doesn't happen again. Also, we're almost back to a review for every 100 hits! Do you remember what that means? A new oneshot! Also, I respond to all my reviews, so, if you review, you get a response and one closer to a new oneshot! Wooo! Come review and tell me what you want to see when we get to our mark :)

So... this is it. I'm a bit nervous... yeah. It's a little heavy and starts earning it's rating here in the next chapter or two, please read with discretion. 

**Chapter 38**

**Alice**

Before I can so much as explore the house he returns, the door swinging shut behind him before I have time to register it opening. The man currently in his grip is, unfortunately, very much still alive. Not a good sign for either of us. It takes some effort for him to bring someone back so unscathed, so I know that he didn't do it to walk in and kill him here. He has something else in mind.

He sets the man down in the middle of the room, his hand still firmly on his shoulder, keeping him in place. He's probably early twenties and has cropped light colored hair. He isn't huge, but he's well built, maybe a laborer. He reminds me a little of Emmett.

As soon as James' eyes fall on me, his expression darkens.

"Whore, did I tell you to dress?"

This isn't going to end well.

"No, James. I'm sorry." I try to look at my feet, but I can't let him out of my sight, so I settle on trying to convey with my eyes my plea not to do this.

"Then fix it before I tear those rags into ribbons and you have to travel naked."

I have no doubt that he will do just that, but my connection of this man to Emmett is making it even more difficult. I don't speak in front of strange men and now I'm about to strip for one who may or may not know that he's on his last few minutes. Oh yeah, him and the sociopath. Just perfect.

"Yes, sir." I manage, probably only audible to him.

Although the fabric is clearly ripped, I still take the time to unzip it, partly to not rip it further but more to buy myself a second more time. I can't find anywhere safe to look, I don't want to see anything, not myself, not this stranger's response to my black and purple body, not James' enjoyment of his game, but I can't close my eyes, I have to know what's coming next. I slowly slide the dress off my shoulders with shaking hands and catch it before it hits the floor, setting it gingerly on one of the windowsills in hope of keeping it at least the tiniest bit cleaner or out of harm's way for whatever comes next.

"There she is!" James calls jovially, as if I'd run into his arms in greeting, "Isn't she decorated magnificently, boy? I just did that before I picked you up. Good work, huh?"

The man looks right into my eyes, his expression sad. "She's beautiful." He tries to assure me, clearly thinking I have about as long to live as he does.

"You want to try her out before you go? She's not a very good lay, but you won't have much comparison in twenty minutes anyway."

"Um, no. Thank you." His gaze stays on my face. Someone clearly taught him to respect a woman, a rare lesson now wasted as I'm about to have to kill him anyway.

"Well Mary, what a sweet boy. I picked a nice one, didn't I? Very well, the least you can do for the guy is give him a good way to go, you know? You may not be any good in bed, but you're alright on your knees."

My mask has been firmly in place since James reentered the room, but I see the second it dawns on the man what he's talking about. His face contorts in horror, his expression darting between him and me. James' smile probably unnerves him, but my lack of response seems to bother him more. It's as if he's begging me with his eyes not to do it, that he's not worth it, but he doesn't know that he's forfeit already. It isn't a suggestion and I know it. James has come up with his twisted idea and now I have to execute it or he'll kill him, throw him out for the animals and get someone else until I submit. He doesn't know it, but going along with this saves another life. I can't save him, but I can save the next one.

I swallow the bile in my throat and take a trembling step toward him. My face is blank but I can't control the shaking, no matter how much practice I have. He chances one more look at James before deciding he isn't actually kidding and takes a step away from me. I keep walking, seeing before he does that he's backing himself into a wall. I don't know what he sees in my dead eyes, but his face is frozen in the same horrified expression he's been wearing since he put the pieces together in his mind. The back of his heel hits the wall and I shift once in my journey to glance at James, silently asking permission to speak to him. He narrows his eyes, but nods minutely. I'm doing what he asks, there's no reason to deny me my attempts to calm him.

He's run out of room to run away and he knows it. I take the last step to close the distance between us, him fully clothed and me completely naked. He's too tall to whisper too quietly, so I raise myself to my tiptoes and rest my hand on the opposite side of his neck, pulling him gently toward me so I can whisper. I know James can hear, but it gives the illusion of privacy.

"Please. You can't save either of us, and neither of us can stop this, he's in charge and he decides what happens. I'm so sorry you got involved with this. Please consider this my apology, if nothing else."

He has no idea what exactly I'm apologizing for. His eyes cloud in confusion, obviously still trying to form words to object as he continues to shake his head. I put a finger to his lips.

"Please." I repeat, cutting him off. I chant the mantra in my head that I'm saving another by playing by James rules now. My bruised ribs protest, but I carefully lower myself to my knees, one hand trailing down his back along the spinal column to gauge the best way to make a clean kill. I make the mistake of glancing at his left hand and spot a wedding ring. Dear God I'm going to hell. I want to be sick; some good woman is waiting for him at home. Not only is he not coming home because of me, but his last moments will be with me. I risk one more glance into his tortured eyes and speak my last words to him.

"Close your eyes." I make sure to speak loudly enough for him to hear and wait until he obeys before I reach for his belt buckle. "Imagine it's her." I whisper under my breath. I don't know if he hears me, I don't know if I wanted him to.

I make sure the last thing he feels is ecstasy. He was a good man, I can tell from his actions, and I am almost certain he feels nothing of his death. I drain him from the major artery on his thigh, gravity helping more than usual as I'm able to choke down all of it faster than usual. I just want to finish the grisly task and pretend like it didn't happen. James stands by quietly. He didn't tell me I could kill him then, but he hadn't told me I couldn't either, so I don't think he'll punish me for that. He'll probably find something else to punish me for before the end of the night, but I think he'll let me killing him go, as I played along with the rest of his sick game.

I don't take my eyes away as the man's body slides limply down the wall.

"May I please get dressed now, James?" I'm not expecting him to allow me, but I have to ask. The tragedy of the last few moments is weighing heavily on me and I envy the men lying on the ground around me.

"I can see you won't be much more fun tonight. Fine, get dressed and sleep. We travel again tomorrow."

With that he turns back to the doorway, taking both bodies with him outside.

I waste no time getting back to my clothes, not wanting to give him time to change his mind. I keep my eyes away from my skin as much as possible but the drying blood down my shoulder and neck is hard to miss, the deep crimson of both my own and my prey's life source.

I make sure that he's out of hearing range before the first sob comes. I'm here, again. How did this happen? What are the chances that he'd run into me now, after all these years? Only a month ago he would have found me alone. Would that have been better or worse? I honestly don't know. At least then the Cullens wouldn't be at risk too. I would still have my protective shield in place, the one that's kept everyone out until Jasper. Oh God, Jasper. He'll come after me, he might even get hurt. After all that he won't want me when he finally figures out what I am, what I've done. He might give me back to James himself. I just have to hope that maybe one of the others will take pity and keep me safe until I can try to disappear on my own. It won't last forever, but the next time he gets me I know I won't survive it, so I just have to hide until I'm ready to go.

I try to calm my breathing by thinking of my father. I still have his ring, tucked safely on my thumb. I didn't realize it until now, but it's really a miracle that it survived the last round. I instinctively protect that hand because of it, which is probably how it is still intact. It's worn and scratched, much more than it was when it was his, but it's one of the few things I have left of him. That and the rosary. I haven't thought of it in weeks, really, I usually forget that I wear it, but it's my lifeline in hard times. I made it then, and for him, I'll make it now. He died for me, because of me; I owe it to him to try to survive. The artifact has been worn down by the years, the original cord broken and repaired so many times that I had to replace it with a stronger cord and then replace it again when that broke. The beads that were once brightly colored are now all worn to their natural wood grain and the figurine was lost somewhere along the way. I don't know if that makes it worthless for its intended purpose, but it doesn't change its meaning to me.

Mary Alice, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. I hate to think that's true, especially with what I've just done. I doubt the Cullens could forgive me, much the deity of the pious and proper. In my day the 'religious' were the ones who made a career out of looking miserable and making others share in their discomfort, they found no room for mercy or survival. I'm oddly sure they would be in agreement with James' name calling. Whatever my father saw in religion that made him pray for me must have been different, and one time as I was walking through one of the buildings I think I understood, if only for a minute. I've never been able to embrace a group that so openly condemns me, but when I read the stories for myself one night and looked into the eyes of the statues, studied the beautiful stained glass and marbleized passion, I wondered if he himself may have accepted me, even if his professed followers wanted nothing to do with me.

I say the short prayer he taught me, not in reference to the church, but in memory of the only man who ever wanted to be my father, the one who died protecting me. I miss him every day, even though I can't remember his voice or his face. I know that whatever James does to me, my father wouldn't judge me. He'd be proud of me for surviving, whatever that takes.

***_*_*_*Jasper*_*_*_***

I'm not certain that we needed a big "family" hunting trip, tonight of all nights, and I do know that I wouldn't have agreed to it if I'd realized that it would be leaving only the women at home with Alice, but now that we're out here there seems to be no turning back. I've been repeatedly assured that she'll be fine, although they are empty platitudes; I know that they're probably right.

We've been out half the night when we finally get headed back toward the house. We're about halfway back when we hear someone running toward us. My first thought is that we've finally found the nomads, but whoever it is is traveling alone and light.

"It's Esme." Edward offers, but says no more. Whatever reason she has is either hidden to him or he wants her to share it. His face is a mask, carefully neutral, and I think he does know.

When she meets us we all come to a stop and my relief that it is in fact her and she's safe is short lived. She looks at me, guilt and regret written all over her face.

"What happened?" I don't yell, I don't speak, I barely whisper. The only thing any of them know about me is Alice, nothing else would make her look at me like that. She doesn't speak for a moment, just stares at me and I take her appearance in a single sweep. Her dress is dirty and torn, she's been running hard from the house, and she's barefoot. Her hair is tangled and has leaves and twigs stuck in it, but she is unharmed.

"She's gone, Jasper. Someone took her."

It's my turn to be silent. I don't hear everyone else respond, don't look anywhere but into her eyes, hoping to find some sort of mirth or falsehood there. I find neither. I snap out of it only a second later.

"When?" I demand, switching easily into tactical mode.

"Within the last hour. She went out for a walk and I stayed outside, even though she asked us not to go with her. I would've heard her scream, I would've heard a struggle and there wasn't one. I thought she was fine, but I hadn't heard from her in a couple minutes so I went out to check on her and she was gone. We found another vampire's scent and Rosalie is following it, but he was good. It's hard to track."

The others seem to have more questions, but I've heard all I need to. Alice is gone, another of our kind took her, and Rosalie will lead me to the scent. That's all I need. I take a step to go around Esme and she stops me in my tracks, handing me something. I smell it before I see it: blood, Alice's blood. I look down to find a torn piece of Alice's dress in my hand; it appears to be some sort of note. The type is scrawling and the ink is crimson, the bastard wrote me a note on her clothing in her blood.

Jasper

Mary was mine long ago and I won't give her up again easily. I was her first and I'll be her last. Come and get me.

James

Esme is sobbing by the time my eyes meet hers again, but I don't have time to stand here and stare. I take off back toward the house, listening carefully for Rosalie's footsteps. I'm confused about the use of both names, mine and the name Mary. My name makes me think this has something to do with me, that I must know this James, but his message makes it clear that he thinks he knows Alice, not me. I've never heard her refer to herself as Mary or introduce herself that way, but maybe it's a nickname or a former alias? I don't claim to know every name she's gone by in her lifetime, and it's certainly her blood. I entertain the idea for a moment that maybe he's mistaken about her identity, but no vampire can mistake the scent of a human, especially with her unique genetics. Even if he was human before, which I doubt he would remember her at all in that case, he still wouldn't make a mistake like that. If he knew her long enough ago that she had a different name, how does he know that I'm connected to her? Has he been watching us? I suppose she may have told him, but I can't think of a situation where she would have had time to tell him my name but not to struggle or cry out so that Esme could hear her.

I catch up to Rosalie quickly, she isn't moving.

"His scent just disappears. Either he teleported from here or he's damn good at covering his tracks."

The situation is just getting stranger and stranger. If he was one of the nomads he is anything but sneaky, I've been tracking them remotely for days, but we would have noticed any other stray vampires hanging around. If he's this good at covering up his trail, he's likely a tracker, but what reason would a tracker have for the flagrant disregard he's shown up until now?

I double check Rosalie, following her back through the short trail a dozen times. She shows me where they found the note and it's clearly where she was taken, but it's only a quarter of a mile before the trail just stops.

I go back to the small clearing again, sitting down against a tree and breathing in the air, hoping that it'll give me some hint to her whereabouts. There is no blood on any surface other than the note, not even trace amounts on the trees or ground. I can smell it in the air, but not a single drop is spilled here. The tree I'm leaning against has fibers from the dress she was wearing this morning and a sharp edge on the bark caught a few of her hairs. The footprints on the ground don't move enough and aren't deep enough for much of a struggle, which confuses me.

I know that she's easily intimidated, especially by men, but it doesn't seem like she even tried to run, or scream, or resist at all, but I doubt she just offered her blood for the note, so it clearly wasn't entirely consensual.

The word consensual hits me like a ton of bricks and I realize that she never told me the name of the man in her nightmares. She told me he was human, but how certain could she be that he died human? What if he had been changed? She'd never mentioned anyone else from her past, what if it was him? That would explain the lack of struggle, she would have been petrified of him, and it would explain the note... most of it. I have to find her. I clear my mind, what would I do if I was some sick bastard trying to get away with a girl, how would I hide and stay hidden?

It would be foolish to keep her around here; he'd have to know he'd be on uneven ground to keep her in an area I know well, which means that until he gets her where he's going there is probably an opening to intercept him. If I can catch him on the run with her I might have a chance.

I look up to find Rosalie staring at me intently.

"Did you see the note?" I ask her, needing to know if she understands the urgency.

"Yes. Do you have any ideas?"

"I need to head north. If he was one of the nomads he wasn't purposely here for her, he would have come much quieter and alone if he was, meaning his escape route isn't planned. He's more vulnerable now than he will be when he gets wherever he's decided to go. It wouldn't make sense to run south because he'll hit the border and more trouble, also he'll hit the sun before long. He would have taken her laterally or north, and north makes more sense."

I hear him coming, even though my attention is divided. I know that Rosalie can probably take care of herself, but out of instinct I push her behind me. If there are sick rapists wandering around the woods, I'd rather they encounter me before her.

I hear her muttering profanities under her breath behind me and I can tell that most of them are directed toward me as I catch the descriptor 'arrogant' several times. Like I said, I'm not in the mood for taking chances, even with Rosalie.

He slows before he breaks through the woods, coming into sight carefully, well aware that he's under scrutiny already.

"Alaska." He offers, as if by way of greeting.

"Alaska?" I ask, hoping to figure out what he's talking about and get back to trying to find Alice. I'm unwilling to completely disregard him, however, as there's the slightest chance he's here for a reason. I've no idea what this James looks like, and I'm not willing to assume this isn't him. It isn't the same scent from the note or the clearing, but it wouldn't be the first time someone has hired out their dirty work.

"He took her to Alaska before; he mentioned something about taking her back there."

My eyes narrow, I can tell he isn't lying, or if he is, is a remarkably adept liar. He doesn't have a single tell, and I might consider that he's being truthful.

"Your name." It isn't a question and I don't ask, he'll tell me his name or I'll pummel it out of him, I'm not in the mood for patience.

"Laurent. I was traveling with James until a few hours ago."

I'm suspicions, but I can't afford to miss a lead if it's offered, no matter how oddly.

"Why did you part ways?"

"He wanted to take the girl again; we had a difference of opinion. I was there the first time he had her, but it's never really sat right with me, so I told him if he wanted her he was on his own this time. We thought Mary was dead, it's the only reason he let her go before. I don't think he's planning on letting her go this time." Mary, the same name on the note.

"You're nomads, correct? You arrived here yesterday, probably?"

"Yes."

"There was a third with you before."

"Yes, there was. James was unhappy with her this morning. They left together; he came back, she didn't. I have no idea if she even lives, but if she's alive I think she took off. Victoria was always strangely jealous of Mary, even though Mary was clearly not intending to be a rival for James' attention, so I guess he finally gave her up."

"How did he know my name?"

"She told him you'd come for her, I believe. He was a bit incoherent by the time he made it to me, he was so excited that he'd found her. He ran off Victoria quickly and when I told him I didn't want anything to do with it he took off with the girl. He mentioned something about a chase, so I know he expects you to follow. He's counting on it, in fact, but I don't know what other choice you have at the moment but to play by his rules. I think he'll take her to the house in Alaska where he kept her before."

"Address?"

"No address, that implies roads and towns. I can give you the coordinates, but once you're close you'll find it."

"Was she unharmed when you saw her?"

"Yes. She was unconscious, but the only wound I could see was a small cut on her arm he made to write the note."

"What will he do to her?"

Laurent's eyes darken and he looks away. He feels disgust and pity and I think I'm getting my answer before he speaks. There is something else to the emotion, however. He feels shame, probably because the first time he was there and let it happen. If he wasn't here helping us now I could kill him just for that.

"He was less than decent to her before. I don't think you want to hear it, but there isn't anything he wouldn't do to her."

The note is insinuation enough, but I have to know, have to hear it from him.

"Tell me."

"He lost her last time because he thought she was dead from one of his beatings. She was treated as a slave and as the note stated, he was her first, but she was anything but willing."

I glance at Rosalie when she turns away, just in time to see the wetness shining in her eyes. I'd nearly forgotten she was here with me and the rest of the group has almost caught up.

"I need you to tell me where you think he'll take her. They already have a head start and I imagine it will be easier to find her if I can catch them traveling."

"Yes, of course."

So  
Whatcha think? Also, one-shot preferences?  
I can't wait to hear from you!  
Manda


	39. Shatter

So, when I uploaded this I saw that the last chapter expires today... 60 days... I didn't realize it had been that long :|

Sorry, all! Here's the next installment... I've been nervous... and busy :) But I'm still writing, don't you worry :)

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Chapter 39

*_*_*_*Alice*_*_*_*_*

I awaken slowly, my whole body aching. I don't feel Jasper here with me so I slowly roll over, reaching out for him. Even the gentle movement seems to jostle already angry muscles, and a few in particular make themselves known. My neck and shoulders are throbbing, sending sharp spikes of pain down my spine, my hip feels like it might be one giant bruise, making me regret turning onto it, my legs are stiff and sore, and there is a throbbing, burning sensation coming from... oh God.

I slowly open my eyes, the events of the day before flooding back to me. He is the first thing I see. I'm lying on a mattress on the floor and he's standing against the opposite wall, just watching me with a disgustingly sweet smile. I have no idea what he has in mind, but I doubt I'll like it.

"Good morning, angel. Sleep well?"

I shudder at his endearment and nod dumbly, knowing that it's the answer he expects.

"Good. We'll be traveling today, so I'll get you breakfast on the road. I could let you run with me if you promise not to take off. It would be stupid of you to do so, you'll never get away and it'll make things worse for you."

I feel trapped promising not to attempt escape, but he's much faster and has better senses than I, so it's not like I'd make it. I also don't relish the idea of any more contact with him than is necessary, and I imagine the alternative to be unpleasant.

"I won't leave."

"Good. C'mere and give me a good morning kiss and we can get on the road."

I move to stand slowly, every sense on high alert from his force feeding the day before. I hate being so aware, especially now. I'd give anything to have hunger to dull my recognition and memory of this. I feel every sensation in multiplicity, each individual injury in its entirety while still having the capacity to try to think of a way out of this. It's much more innocent than his usual demands, although I recognize it for what it is: a demand. It feels too intimate, too sweet. I don't ever want to say I touched him willingly, even for something as small as this, but I know what it takes to survive him, and I'll do anything to get back to Jasper, even if he doesn't want me anymore. I have to play by his rules until they find me.

I can tell that he's getting impatient, his eyes are watching too closely and they narrow minutely as I slowly make my way off the bed and toward where he is standing. By the time I get there he's impatient, and he grabs my face and yanks me close. At least I didn't actually have to initiate the contact.

His hands wander as the kiss lingers and deepens, roughly perusing my bruised and broken body. I close my eyes, trying to shut out as much of what is happening as I can. I don't think he notices the difference, absorbed as he is in his activity, but it doesn't really help. Closing my eyes leaves me with no way to anticipate his actions and amplifies the remaining senses, giving me more to worry about and no way to brace myself.

I try to pretend that it's Jasper, not James. The marble of his skin next to the burning of mine is right, but his fingers aren't calloused enough, the skin of his arm against mine is too perfect, the raised scars of another lifetime missing. His scent is wrong, packed earth and sandalwood instead of the oddly comforting gun smoke and evergreen. As hard as I try to pretend, I know this isn't my Jasper, and even if I could pretend I wouldn't want to.

I don't want to imagine Jasper ignoring my boundaries and forcing me the way James does. Instead I try to pretend like it's happening to someone else, some other girl that I don't know. It doesn't help much either, I wouldn't wish this on someone else in my place, but it keeps me sane for the moment. His touches are becoming rougher and more intimate, and I know that this isn't going to be simply a kiss.

I want to kick and scream, to fight him off of me, but I know that I've tried it all before and it doesn't work, it just makes it worse for me in the end. His mouth detaches from mine, but the relief is short lived as he nuzzles his face down my neck. I can't move. He's holding my hair and the back of my neck with one hand, effectively rendering me immobile. He runs his nose along my collarbone and I'm unable to repress a shiver. He seems to pretend that it's a good sign and continues. I can't see him from the angle at which he's holding my head so I'm at the mercy of my other senses to tell me what he's doing. I feel the shoulder of my dress being pushed aside and close my eyes tightly, blocking out my view of the wooden rafters rather than my sense of the terror happening to me; it isn't as effective as I'd hoped.

Without any warning my world explodes in bright, searing lights. His teeth are in my neck again, tearing into the wounds which had hardly begun to heal. Mercifully, the blinding pain distracts me from what else he's doing, so I focus my attention there alone, hoping to lose consciousness. I don't, unfortunately, but I do manage to distract myself for the most part until he's finished with me, discarding me back onto the floor roughly.

"Get your things, Darling, we're leaving."

I hate everything about him, but more than anything else right now I hate that he chooses that endearment. Why did it have to be Jasper's, after what he just finished doing to me? I want to scream and lash out and tell him that he doesn't get to call me that, but I know I can't. I carefully move to pull myself up, holding on to the desk chair for support. Every bone and muscle feels like it belongs in a rag doll and my hands are shaking so hard I can barely grip the wood. He seems to grow impatient with my failing attempts and he kicks the chair away, sending me back to the floor. I don't think he thought that one through, if he's in a hurry, because without the chair it'll take me longer to get up. After a few more tries he grabs me by the hair and pulls me to my feet, carrying me like across the room that until my feet finally responded and began trying to reach the ground. He puts me down hard, but I manage to keep my balance this time. I collect my dress, now in a further state of disrepair, and put it back on as best as I'm able.

I look around the dingy cabin, but find nothing else to collect. I follow him out into the morning sunlight and we leave. My legs protest their use so suddenly, but I can feel the blood racing through my system giving me energy. Unfortunately, with the blood is the small amount of venom, and it circulates pain across my body. I don't want to run anymore, but it isn't an option.

"This morning I found some trails a few hundred miles back, turns out someone is finally looking for you, I was beginning to be afraid that no one would miss you after all."

I have no response to this, I don't want any of them to fall into one of James' traps, but I'm so relieved to hear that someone is going to take me back from him, if only until he finds me again. I have a chance at escaping if he gives me to them first; I have no chance of getting away on my own.

He sets his pace so that I can keep up fairly easily. I know it isn't for my comfort, it's the keep an eye on me, but I'm thankful anyway. He keeps a step behind me and it's driving me nuts, but there are worse things he could be up to, so I suck it up and try to distract myself. It only partially works, because my mind goes to what will happen when we stop tonight.

Stopping for "meals" on the run is much quicker and less horrific than the night before. It's still murder, but if murder has degrees based on pain and humiliation, this is a lesser one. We've been running for twelve hours before we stop again, my mind in overdrive. I've spent the entire time shifting through recovered memories of my first time with James and the others, which lasted several years. I suppose it's really just a matter of perspective. A human can block days, weeks, months and occasionally years from their mind if they are traumatic enough. With several lifetimes behind me, I suppose it isn't all that inconceivable that I may have purposely lost a few unpleasant years. Unfortunately, that makes all of the returning memories worse. I can't believe that I've lived without these years for so long, but now that I remember I wish I could go back and forget.

I suppose I always knew. It's not as if I suddenly had a revelation, it's as if I was reminded of a childhood memory I hadn't thought about in years. It was always there, I just had unconsciously warned myself not to return to it.

We've stopped at another abandoned house, this one in the middle of an overgrown field. I don't think this stop is as planned as the other, as James simply breaks the lock on the door. The air is musty, but the house is much more livable. It looks like a hunting lodge rather than a condemned wreck, but I can only barely smell the scents of the last humans to visit.

As I'm standing in the middle of the room looking around, James comes up behind me. I fight the urge to turn and face him, knowing that if he wanted to face me he would have walked around so that he was. I try to remember anything of my single lesson with Rosalie, but I can only think of the attempt I tried weakly to get out of her grip. I imagine that it won't help any, and will probably just make him angrier, but I have to try, to make an attempt; for Jasper, if no other reason. I take a deep breath, trying to will my heartbeat and breathing back to a normal level so he won't hear my fear, but unable to do so. I try to remember anything about her suggested technique, but I can't, I'm going to have to wing it.

He runs his nose along my neck and down to my shoulder, brushing gently against the grotesque looking mark that now covers my scar from Jasper. I do my best to mentally prepare myself. He reaches the top of my arm and begins the slow track back, lingering on the only barely closed skin a little longer. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and stomp on the inside of his heel for all I'm worth.

Everything freezes. He doesn't move, doesn't make a sound, and I don't either. This was a mistake. Then, when I'm sure that the next move will be the end of me, he bursts out laughing. Not a chuckle, but a full out, hysterical laughter. I feel so stupid.

"Now that-" he pauses for another fit of laughter, "that is just precious. Who taught you that, some human? How cute, Mary, you've learned a new trick."

His laughter still dying in his throat, he yanks me back against his body roughly. I can't see him well out of my peripheral vision, but I feel it clearly when he digs his fingers into my lower abdomen to hold me there and tears into the wound on my neck again, drinking greedily. I cry out, the pain sudden and unexpected, but he quickly covers my mouth with his other hand, squeezing until I'm sure that my face will be bruised and then continuing to increase pressure, his mind clearly elsewhere as he gorges himself on my blood. I hear a wet cracking sound, the noise deafening in my ears and accompanied by shooting pain across my face. I haven't experienced this particular injury before, but I imagine he's just cracked either my jaw or its connection to my face. It's excruciating and know I couldn't speak if I tried.

I can feel myself beginning to get a little light headed, but he doesn't stop until I doubt I could stand on my own if he released me. He closes the wound, the venom in my blood still searing through my veins, and drops me to the floor. I don't even have time to collapse all the way before he is behind me, holding my hips so I am on my knees facing away from him and throwing the skirt of my dress nearly over my head in his haste. At least no further harm is likely to come to my dress tonight. And it's better than a real bed, especially here. I don't want him to have me anywhere remotely intimate or romantic when this is anything but.

I use the last of my remaining strength to cover my ears and claw my fingernails into my scalp to block out as many senses as possible to the horror of the moment. I lean my forehead toward the rough wooden floor in an attempt to keep my rapidly swelling jaw away from further contact. I close my eyes and try not to breathe in, but I can't help it and still smell him, baked earth and sandalwood, the scent bitter and sickeningly alluring. Even hatred and fear can't override the attraction his species possess, and it makes me hate myself more when I realize I'm not entirely immune.

He finishes relatively quickly and pulls me up, pinning me against the far wall.

"It's not very nice of you to try to block me out like that, Mary. Fortunately for you, I was going to rough you up either way, so it won't matter much this time. Do it when I get you back and I'll break all of your fingers. You understand?" His voice is quiet and disgustingly matter of fact.

I nod vigorously, knowing that it won't spare me much of what's to come. I had sort of hoped the quick movement would be enough to knock me out, the pain in my face spiking, but it just brings me to the point of large black dots in my vision and screaming pain in my head. Not exactly what I was hoping for.

"Better brace yourself, darling. This is going to sting a bit. Can't give you back to them undamaged, can I? I've got to give them some incentive to play the game."  
Give me back? He must be planning on doing so soon if he's being this careless with me now, and I can almost look past the pain looking forward to his temporary departure. Almost.

He pulls away from me, his hand left resting in the middle of my chest, his grip strong enough to keep me pinned to the wall. The pressure is noticeable but not painful, yet.

He increases pressure so slowly I don't realize what he's up to at first, but when my ribs start protesting in earnest I realize that he's not going to hit me. Despite my jaw, I scream when the lowest rib cracks into my body, the pace increasing until none of my lower or middle ribs remain attached. The searing white is consuming and I finally get what I hoped for before; unconsciousness.

*_*_*_*Jasper*_*_*_*

Something is wrong. Yesterday we spent all day following cleverly laid rabbit trails and decoy side trips, today it's a straight shot so strong a newborn could follow it. Something changed between yesterday and today that made him either careless, which seems highly unlikely unless she's already dead, or want me to find him. It smells like a trap, but I find myself compelled without choice to continue on my path. In a few short weeks Alice has become my whole life. I can't stay back any more than I could if it were my own life I sought to save.

I've cycled through a thousand emotions since the trip began, all night and then all day Wednesday, the Cullen "kids" absence from school sufficiently covered by their frequent days off for the sun. Wednesday night has come and gone and the sun is long in the sky this dismal Thursday. It would be so easy to blame Rosalie and Esme, but deep inside I know it isn't their fault. She was close, she didn't make a sound.

I've made a promise to myself I'll find her today, and with his careless travel I'm starting to believe my hope may not be all that unreasonable after all.

It's been getting dark earlier and earlier as we travel north, and the terrain in slowly changing. I had been successful in convincing Esme that she would be more valuable to the search staying at the house. She has a gentle soul, one that I can't relate to, but can't allow myself to be responsible for crushing. With her there, it was a simple matter to convince Carlisle that he was needed there as well, in case Laurent wasn't as repentant as he seemed or the mysterious Victoria circled back through. Edward was more reluctant, but after asking him rather forcefully to patrol the house to make sure James doesn't circle back, he was persuaded. The only two I couldn't shake were equally vehement about coming along: Emmett and Rosalie.

Emmett's logic was simple and irrefutable; I can't be two places at once. It's much easier to keep a hostage in the middle of a fight if it's fair, but with two one can attack and the other extract the captive. Although probably not well trained, he also has the advantage of being huge. His presence couldn't hurt.

Rosalie's demand was much different logic, but it was effective just the same. The conversation hadn't exactly gone as planned. Even though she was still angry with me for pushing her behind me when Laurent arrived, I had expected to be able to convince her to stay. Call me chauvinistic, but having a woman, even a female vampire as fierce as Rosalie, along with me while I tracked what is likely a brutal rapist seemed unwise to me, but yet here she is. The conversation went something like this:

"Rosalie, you need to stay."

"I'm coming jackass, try to stop me."

"Esme-"

"Has Carlisle and Edward. I'm going with you guys."

"I don't know how we're going to find her. You should stay."

"Exactly, you don't know how you're going to find her. You won't offend my sensibilities; I was gang raped, beaten and left for dead when I was changed. I've not only seen it, I've experienced it firsthand. You think that if you find her like that you're going to just scoop her up and take her home? She's not going to want you anywhere near her, either of you. You need me."

That, as they say, was that. I had an idea of Rosalie's past experiences from her discussion of Alice, but I didn't expect it laid out for me so clearly. In my search and rescue mode, I hadn't let myself consider in what state Alice may be when we find her, not really. I refuse to believe that she could be dead, although I know rationally that it may be a possibility, but I haven't been able to rid myself of those thoughts since Rosalie joined the search party so abruptly.

Each hour is filled with tormenting silence. I have what feels like years to consider when and how we might discover Alice. I'm not naive enough to expect that she will be just sitting out in the woods, unharmed, waiting for us, but I can wish. The more likely scenarios won't stop suggesting themselves to me as the hours count up since she was taken and add into days. His note was clear enough in his intention for her and it makes me sick to think of my delicate Alice with that monster. I'm more than aware that she may not be coming back to me in the same condition she was taken, either physically or mentally. I hate myself for letting her get taken from right under my nose like that.

From my conversation with Laurent, which is still suspect, but likely correct, I was able to rule out the possibility that the man from her childhood was James, but that leaves me with more questions than answers. If he's right and they took and held her before, why didn't she tell me that? Why would she disclose partially her childhood nightmares without bothering to mention a vampire, a tracker at that, who may or may not be still out to get her? Didn't that seem like important information to her? How the hell am I supposed to protect her if she doesn't even bother to tell me what I'm up against?

I growl in frustration, apparently aloud because I earn a curious glance and a pointed glare from my two companions. I don't bother to explain as my thoughts drag me back.

It's only another two hours until the trail sharply cuts to the east and her scent becomes overpowering. She's here.

I slow to a brisk walk, all senses on high alert. As much as I want to run in there and get her, it's very likely this is a trap. I don't sense anyone else even in the remote proximity, but with our lack of basic living sounds such as breathing or a heart beating, our kind is silent when not in motion and almost impossible to detect with any sense other than scent or direct sight. His scent is all over the area, but it's not conclusive in how recently he was out here. We've come to the edge of a clearing, a dusty vacation rental placed in the middle. The smell of her blood mixed with several unfamiliar human scents and far too much of a vampire scent is nearly overpowering, even from outside, but I can hear her heart beating, faintly, which is the only reason I am still able to hold myself together.

I motion for Emmett and Rosalie to each take a side of the house while I elect for the front entrance. I make eye contact and we enter, I from the front door and the other two from side windows. As soon as the first room is clear I send both outside to double check the perimeter. Everything in my being calls her location to me, but I force myself to search every room of the cabin before I look at her. The building smells of her blood, only slightly diluted with human scents, dust, wood and sex. I know I have to look, even though my last shred of self preservation warns me against it. I hear Rosalie's gasp, but only when I am sure that we are alone do I allow myself to face her.

If I live another million lifetimes I will never forget the image before my eyes. I'm paralyzed, frozen. I've seen a lot of gruesome and horrific things in my life, but nothing compares to this moment.

My Alice is lying in the middle of the wooden floor in a pool of her own blood. It's dry around the edges; she's been just like that for a while now. The torn remains of her dress are soaked crimson in the puddle below her and she's completely naked, her normally flushed skin white as ice. The only thing she wears is a faded wooded rosary, the natural wood of the beads stained unevenly crimson and glued to her body with her own blood. Her lips and fingers are tinged nearly as blue as the dark bruises on her face, arms, and... thighs. Most are clearly distinguishable hand prints and some are darker purple or black. The biggest bruise encompasses her entire chest, from her neck to her stomach.

Her jaw is swollen to nearly twice its normal size and her neck is black and purple, the wound there looking like it was hacked open with a serrated knife. Torn brutally into the sensitive skin of her lower abdomen, stretching from one hipbone to the other is a single word: "mine". She is clearly unconscious and has been for a while, but I can feel the pain and fear in her emotions, even now. Of all the injustices, I think she's dreaming.

I hear a sound from behind me, I can't tell if Rosalie is sobbing or dry heaving, but either seems appropriate right now. Emmett falls to his knees, the force of it splintering the wooden beams below him and shaking the walls of the house slightly. The sound is deafening in the silence, but I don't react. Rosalie is shaking violently now in my peripheral vision and Emmett is still, his head in his hands but his eyes still on Alice. I can't move. In this moment I realize that I can't do this alone. I'm not one for opening up or touchy feely crap like that, but I will do whatever I have to and involve whoever else I need to in order to somehow make this better. Even if it involves more of Emmett's "talks" or giving her time with Rosalie or Esme, I'll do whatever it takes to get her back.

I don't know what to do, how to fix this. I don't want to move her and cause her more pain, but she clearly can't stay here, like this. Even taking a more direct route home, it's a full day's run back to the house, and she is in no condition to run. I can't exactly check her into a hospital, they couldn't help her even if that were an option, but I do need to get her somewhere else. I find my voice as I claw desperately for the calm and detached of my life as a solider. I don't achieve it, but it steadies me enough to act.

* * *

So? Yes? No? Whatcha thinking?


	40. Stasis

Thank you, as always to everyone who reviewed last chapter. It's amazing to hear from you all, it always makes my day.

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Chapter 40

Jasper

"Emmett, run back to Winterhaven. Call Carlisle, get him there. Make sure he brings everyone; no one should be alone right now when it isn't absolutely necessary. Get a hotel room and any medical supplies you think we might need to keep her stable until he arrives. Rose, get us a car from as close as you can and get it here, now. We can't run with her like this."

After a split second that feels like an eternity, they take off in different directions. The switch is flipped and they are back in emergency mode.

I do the only thing I can think of to help and carefully pick her up, laying her on the bed in the corner so I can get better access to her. I clean any of the open wounds I can reach, pulling away the dried blood and sealing them with my venom. Her taste is different, a stronger venom and the odd cacophony of human scents. Although her skin is closing as I seal it, nothing seems to be healing. I hesitate over the carved words before cleaning and sealing them as well, praying to whoever may be out there that she doesn't wake right now with my mouth on her _here_.

I don't know how much faster she heals, but I know it's faster than humans. She isn't coming to yet, but she's started to shiver. It doesn't feel cold in the room to me, but I find a clean blanket in the hall closet and lift her carefully, wrapping it around her to cover her and keep her warm.

I hear the car approaching, tree limbs scraping across the side of the metal; Rosalie is clearly taking an off road route. I lift her as cautiously as I can, supporting her neck carefully like an infant, and pushing the door open to meet Rosalie in the front yard. I open the passenger door of the large truck and tell Rosalie to put the seat all the way back. I carefully place Alice in the giant chair. I don't buckle the seat belt, remembering the harsh bruises on her ribcage, opting instead for sitting in the seat behind her to secure her with a hand on her less torn-up shoulder.

"Drive" I command, and Rosalie turns carefully toward the small path leading back toward a side road, flooring it as soon as we get out on straight, paved roads despite the ice. I know she sees it and she's accounting for it in her driving.

I reach over the center arm rest and turn up the heat as far as it will go. It feels strange on Rosalie's and my skin, but I hope it'll be helpful to Alice. She doesn't stop shivering, even when she's nearly scalding to the touch, so I finally turn it down a bit, scared that I'll harm her by overheating her. As the miles stretch on, her breathing and heartbeat are getting more erratic. My short patch up job isn't working, it won't be enough.

After what seems like years, but is realistically less than an hour, we're almost back to town. Her breathing is starting to rattle and I know that she's not doing well. I see it coming, out the windshield, and I make a decision.

"Pull over."

For the second time in how long I've known her, both today, she does what I ask without arguing. It's good and dark, so the tiny county jail is unattended. I hold my breath as I break the lock quietly, returning quickly with my intended prey. I don't know how Rosalie will react, but as soon as it occurred to me I had known it necessary. I kill the old man before I leave the building to remove any chance of protest; even in this dire circumstance the temptation is there to drain him myself. She's too far gone, I have to do something or she isn't going to make it the rest of the way into Winterhaven.

I look to the blond in the driver's seat and her eyes are conflicted. I'm not looking for her permission, only for warning if she might make a move to stop me. When I don't find that intention in her expression, I pull open the door, carefully lifting her out of the cab and laying her in the grass beside the road. I leave the blanket in the car, although it feels wrong to do so, knowing that I can't risk her waking up covered in an unknown human's blood. I pull the man's shirt off of him and use it to cover her, tearing open his vein and opening her mouth.

The reaction is unconscious, even in her current state. She drinks, shallowly at first and then stronger. She nearly drains him before she starts choking and I quickly clean her up with his clothing and hurl the body into the woods behind us. I wrap her back up in the seat of the truck and get back in, Rosalie continuing the drive without a word. Her expression is torn, but whatever she's thinking of saying to me, she doesn't. She can hear as well as I can that her heart rate has steadied and her breathing is deeper. Whatever random prisoner I just sacrificed probably saved her life.

She meets my eyes in the rear view mirror, her emotions sorrowful but resigned. An unspoken pact seems to be in her expression, that she won't tell what I'd done if I don't tell that she allowed it. I don't care if the others know, as long as it saved Alice, but I understand that she doesn't want the others to know for her sake, and after what she's been through today, what we've all been through, I humor her, nodding minutely.

We race through the empty city streets, Rose seeming to instinctively know where Emmett would be drawn to. She doesn't hesitate before pulling up to a hotel, declaring definitively that it is the place.

Almost before the words are off her lips, Emmett appears outside the vehicle carrying a key. I lift Alice out of the truck and follow them to the back entrance and then the elevator, opening on the fifth and highest floor, a hallway containing only three doors with long empty wall segments between them.

Emmett produces the key again and opens the middle door, telling us that he rented all three rooms to ensure we can keep an eye out, as we can't exactly run a perimeter here.

Rosalie pulls the top blanket off the bed and throws it aside, pulling back the sheet for me to put Alice on the bed. Emmett produces two large bags, the name of a drug store on both. He pulls up the small table and dumps them out.

I don't recognize most of it, but Rose does and goes to work on the wound on her neck first, putting some sort of foul smelling liquid on it that makes a quiet hissing sound on contact and covering it with what looks like taped on cloth. She then moves the blanket aside again and repeats the procedure with the horrific cuts into her lower body. I can't help but stare, the terror of the last few days only somewhat abated by having her back, but in this condition. I can tell that the blood helped, however, because the swelling is already starting to go down in her face and the cuts have stayed closed. She is healing much faster now, she should be awake soon. Rosalie covers every open wound she finds, pausing to hold her cold hand to Alice's swollen face and rubbing lightly over the bruises on her arms.

I pull off my shirt as Rosalie finishes, ignoring the initial matching expressions of shock from the other two conscious occupants of the room. It hadn't occurred to me that neither of them had seen my scars before this moment. I carefully sit Alice up, my hand on her neck to support her as I slip my shirt behind her, putting her limp arms in the sleeves before pulling the fabric as far away from her as I can without lifting her off the bed to button up the front. It isn't much, but it's some form of clothing that will stay with her better than the blanket. Neither of the other two recovers in time to help me, oddly enough their shock at this lasting longer than we wasted at the cabin.

I can feel the questions forming in their emotions before they can even tear their eyes away, but I am in no mood for story time, so I shoot each a look of warning. Alice is lying here unconscious; the last thing that matters is an old life with old scars. They've seen the few on my face and hands so it can't come as that much of a surprise, but I'm sure I'll hear about them later.

"How far out is Carlisle?" The question snaps them back to reality. Emmett sits carefully back into the chair by the wall, his expression still overwhelmed.

"Eight hours, at least. He's going to try to fly out to get here faster, but we're in the middle of nowhere so it'll take a while no matter how he travels."

"Can you find somewhere still open to get her something to wear?" I ask, knowing that he's likely the only one willing to leave.

Rosalie surprises me again by volunteering. "He'll pick her out something terrible. I'll go."

I nod once as Emmett makes some excuse to go along, ducking out of the room.

I find myself suddenly alone with her. I know that it will just as likely freak her out as it will comfort her, but I need to be close to her. I sit down on the bed next to her and pull her head on to my lap, just like she slept at the house. I run my hands through her hair, matted despite its length and stained dark red with blood clinging to the short spikes. The blood is mostly her own, but stronger traces of others remain toward the front of her hair. He must have been feeding her humans, and it almost makes me feel bad for making that decision for her earlier. Almost. It probably saved her life, so anything seems justified to me. I would slaughter half the country and feed it to her if it saved her life.

She's shivering again, even though her skin feels so warm. I can feel her emotions, each is quiet and fuzzy. For the first time since I laid eyes on her again, I allow myself a moment to fall apart. I pick her up, cradling her face gently to my chest and whispering my desperate apologies to her. I close my eyes, despair nearly overwhelming me.

I let him take her, just about giving her over myself by leaving her unprotected like that. All of her nightmares, the ones I promised her that I would rescue her from, the worried glances and mishaps... I just let him take her and do this to her. If she doesn't want me when she wakes, I wouldn't blame her. I selfishly hold her closer, breathing in her proximity that I may be denied when she wakes.

Her breathing begins to quicken and I reluctantly lay her back down on the bed, moving a chair to near her bedside but opting to stand a bit farther away. She's waking up, and I don't know what to expect from her so I make sure to stay in her line of sight, but not too close. I sit down, trying to make myself less intimidating and wishing I had thought of a solution to her clothing that involved me wearing my shirt. I drop my shoulders and lean my forearms forward on my knees, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. I try to think about things that upset newborns and eliminate as many as possible. I can't break eye contact though, I have to see her. If this doesn't go well I'm going to wish I hadn't sent Rosalie away. She whimpers quietly a few times and then moves as if to roll over, but her face contorts in pain and she cries out, the action waking her completely. Her eyes fly open and I'm shocked by the intensity of them.

She grits her teeth and quickly moves so her back is to the headboard of the bed, her eyes darting around the room, landing first on the exposed skin of her legs. She quickly pulls up the sheet, the partially sheer fabric only providing a small amount of cover. She studies the room, seeming to purposely avoid me, and then, finally, her gaze locks with mine. I'm sure my eyes widen in surprise as the brilliant scarlet meets my dark ochre. I force myself to stay still, but I can't drop my eyes. I have to see her reaction when she realizes where she is. I have to know what she sees when she looks at me.

*_*_*_*Alice*_*_*_*_*

I feel numb, as if I'm floating. I know that I've recently been thinking of something... or maybe dreaming... but I don't remember what it is now. It's dark, but the room smells of smoke and comfort, something familiar that I can't place. I reach out my hand, but it's too dark to see very far in front of me so I drop it. I can see the light beginning to form just out of my reach, so I walk toward it. There is a dull pain spreading through my whole body the closer I get, but I find that now that I've started walking I can't stop. The pain becomes stronger and stronger until I try to move away. My whole world explodes into bright stars as pain consumes my senses, my ribs and abdomen feel like they may be on fire.

It all comes back to me pretty quickly then- James. I pull myself up, ignoring the pain. I can't afford to be caught off guard again. I push myself up against the wall, taking in my surroundings as best I can. The last I remember we were in that house, but the bed I'm lying on is too clean to belong to that abandoned place. As I pull my legs up to my body and see skin, I realize that my clothing situation probably nearly nonexistent. Last I remember I was still wearing my dress, but I apparently missed something. I pull up the sheet around me, knowing that if James is in the room he's going to be mad at me for covering myself, but willing to hope that he isn't. I find a deep blue button down shirt covering my torso and realize that this is where the familiar smell is coming from. I can't let myself believe it until I see him, though, so I slowly raise my eyes and finish looking around the room.

It's definitely a hotel room, the walls and furniture nice but carefully neutral. The room is larger than I expect at a hotel, but I can't come up with any alternate explanation. I look up to find the owner of the shirt I'm wearing, minus the missing article, sitting in the middle of the room, watching me closely. His stance is carefully nonthreatening, but everything about his posture is stiff and intense. He isn't half as nonchalant as he wants me to think that he is. The only movement he makes is a change in expression; a surprised look paints his features when he meets my eyes.

The only light in the room is from the moon outside, and it catches the hundreds of scars forged into his skin. My brain warns me to be afraid of him, that he's stronger and more lethal even than James, but for once my emotions are on my side. He is home and safety. Whatever he does when he figures out what I've done will still be more civil than James. My mind flashes back to the last time I've seen these scars, which seems like years ago now. A fire in the fireplace, blood on his hands, it doesn't seem so threatening now. My eyes are darker than his today.

I attempt some sort of sound, but it comes out as more of a strangled sob. I know it's only temporary, but I'm home, he's here. The strange sound surprises me and my hand goes to my face, my fingers connecting hard with my cheek almost an inch before they should have done so. My vision explodes with pain, the world spinning for a moment while I clutch the sheets to try to center myself. No touching, apparently, because that hurt like hell. I remember now that my jaw is almost certainly fractured, and probably my cheekbone as well, judging by the last few moments.

I want to speak, and having recently been reminded that my jaw is not in the best condition, I know I probably shouldn't chance it, but his presence is irresistible. I have no idea how long it's been since I last my last memory, and no sense of how long I was unconscious before that. I carefully open my mouth, my fingers feeling along my face much more gently. It hurts, a lot, but the muscle responds and it isn't broken, at least it isn't _still_ broken. I try to form a word, moving slowly as not to jostle it too much.

"Jas-" I don't manage to finish his name before I feel the insistent tickle in the back of my throat. I cough, once, but it turns into a scream as my ribs explode in pain. I reach my hands down to try to hold my ribs, to do something to make it stop, but any contact just seems to make it worse. Tears are streaming down my face and I can't stop coughing, even though each time I do it hurts more. I can barely see, but I make out a blurry form of Jasper, moving exceptionally slowly. I know that he's trying to give me a chance to protest, but at the moment I'm not sure I care where he is as long as this stops. I'm choking on my own tears and my vision is getting white with searing pain. I'm panicking, having trouble breathing as I taste blood in my mouth and it's making it worse. I can tell that Jasper is trying to get my attention, but I can't focus on him.

Then, as forcefully as the pain came, I can hardly hold myself up. It's as if every muscle in my body gave up at once. I feel his cold hands catch me as I slump toward the bed. It still hurts, a lot, but I am very tired... I can't find the will to move, much less cough, so that at least is solved. I see the blood dripping out of my mouth onto Jasper's shirt, and I can only be sad that I'm ruining it. It's as if I just can't find it in me to be that upset about anything. I look up into his eyes, my vision clearing.

His expression is worried and when I focus I realize that he's apologizing to me. I open my mouth again to try to speak to him, but he puts a finger gently on my lips and takes my hand.

"Alice, I know you didn't like this before, but is it alright for now? Just squeeze my hand if it is, you shouldn't try to talk yet."

This is new information; he's the one doing this? I remember the time before, but it didn't feel anything like this. Really, as long as it isn't what it was, I don't care. I manage to squeeze the hand he's holding, although weakly. He looks relieved.

I reach a hand feebly toward him; he still seems too far away. It may be because his influence, but I don't really care if it is, I want him over here, near me. I tug gently on his hand, trying to indicate that I want him here next to me. By some miracle he seems to get the message and sits down a careful distance away from me on the bed.

I need him closer to me, the comfort of his presence not quite enough to keep me convinced that he's really here. I pull myself up on aching knees, my ribs protesting fiercely, and crawl over to him, pulling his shirt down to cover more of me and sitting in his lap. I keep my eyes open, focused on his face. I know that I will lose myself if I get distracted; I need to know that this is my Jasper. I feel the raised skin of his scars, slightly rough against the skin of my arm, but I don't let myself dwell on it. They're part of Jasper and not part of James, no matter how much my mind wants to argue that they make him dangerous; nothing is more dangerous to me right now than James.

He doesn't move, probably trying not to startle me, so we sit like this for a while, my face leaning against his arm, my eyes fixed on his, my arms wrapped around him. The cold of his arm feels good against my swollen jaw. He's safe, home, and for a second my mind is silent. Everything seems to be slowing down, my heart rate calming with each passing second. I can't help but think that maybe I'll be alright as long as I can stay here. I shut all of the reasons it's probably not true, huge things like him not having any idea what happened while I was away, or that I was just taken in the first place, and just focus on him. The stress and hysteria of the last few days are catching up with me and I feel my eyelids starting to get heavy. Finally, when I'm sure that I'll fall asleep regardless of my permission to do so, my eyes slip closed.

The presence against me morphs immediately and I'm trapped.

_Stone skin, cold as ice and smooth as marble pins me closer to his chest, forcing me to straddle his lap. Red eyes, a sickeningly alluring voice, barely a whisper, sheer terror. _

"_Make me feel good, Mary, and I'll let you have human food tonight."_

_I don't try to push away, it never works. I hate that I don't fight him anymore, but I fear his retaliation more._

_The worst part is that I'm so desperate for a moment of clear conscience, I'm willing. I know he'll take what he wants from me either way, if I play by his rules he might not make me kill tonight. _

_I trail my fingers up his chest, my movements forced and stiff. I try to keep my mind on the prize, a night without blood on my hands, but it's so hard to focus with his hungry eyes following my every move._

_He catches my hand. I flinch, waiting. He doesn't move to hit me. He doesn't roughly move my hand to do his bidding. He doesn't move. I don't either._

"_Alice?"_

_He's never called me that._

"_Alice, are you okay?" His voice sounds funny, something isn't right._

_The room starts to melt and I panic, jerking more upright to try to keep myself from falling. _

My eyes suddenly open; I was unaware that I'd closed them. The room is gone, the house in Alaska, the deep red eyes, the demanding hands; they are all gone. In their place is a very confused and concerned looking Jasper. When he sees that I'm looking at him, I follow his gaze down to my hand still against his chest, his hand over mine to stop it.

I balk, yanking my hand away as if I'd been burned. It's not that I'm afraid or disgusted by Jasper, it's how easily my mind just traded him for James. I can feel my cheeks burning in shame, what if he hadn't stopped me? What would I have done, caught in the moment? He must think I'm crazy. I know I do.

"Hey, no, it's okay. You're okay. Shit, I don't know, are you okay? I don't know what I'm doing here, Alice. Did I do something wrong? What just happened? You were okay, I thought you were okay, and then you weren't falling asleep anymore you were all tense and scared and I was talking to you and I don't think you could hear me… what the hell is happening?"

He waits for a minute before giving up, probably remembering that I can't answer him. I don't dare look at him, still embarrassed, but I reach slowly for his hand, wanting back the contact I just willingly broke off a few seconds ago. He lets me take it, running the other hand roughly through his hair in frustration. His eyes travel slowly back to mine.

"What did he do to you?"

* * *

This last part was a beast to figure out and decide where to cut. Next chapter is even worse. Hopefully it won't be as long in coming, I've just had this written for a while and now I don't like it anymore... so I have to go back and rewrite parts until I satisfy my picky self. Anyway, thank you all for sticking with me and please take a second to review, it makes my week :)


	41. Suspend

I kept telling myself I'd have time to update over break... didn't happen. However, here I am back in my work week and I edited this for you all... cause I love you all and I'm a fail at updating

A special thank you to my anonymous reviewers- I can't reply but I really appreciate each one! Also, thank you to my new story favorites, update alerts and author favorites- if you don't have stories posted I can't send you a message to thank you, so I'll do it here- I really appreciate my new readers. Thank you to everyone who has been reading, has started reading or has recommended my story to friends. I love you all, thank you.

:D

Thanks for sticking with me, all.

* * *

Chapter 41

Alice

The silence stretches on. I won't meet his eyes, afraid of what I'll find there. I can't speak, but I wouldn't answer even if I could. He can't know, not any more than he does already. He's too smart for his own good; he'll figure it out and then I'll be alone again, at least until James finds me. Then James will end it. He'll end it or I will, and then there will be glorious nothing.

I want to close my eyes, to disappear, but I don't relish the idea of another flashback, so I keep my eyes open, not even daring to blink. He just stares back, his expression blank as he feels my emotions with me. He doesn't respond to the changes, just sits there absolutely still.

I can tell that he's not ready for this conversation yet, and as I can't talk, I'm clearly not either. Finally, I snap out of my moment of depression. He's not gone yet, I can't waste the little time I have left with him morning his absence. I look down at myself, taking in as much of my skin as is visible. Every inch I can see is covered in black and blue, or blood. I'm a wreck. I want to ask him to take me to the bathtub, but I don't know if I can wash myself right now. I pull my other hand from the blankets and make a few attempts at brushing off the newly dried blood from my coughing fit, but it doesn't do anything and I huff weakly.

"Do you want to get cleaned up? Rosalie came along, but she's not back yet, she went to go find you some clothing. We can wait for her, I don't think you're going to be able to do much without help and I doubt you want me to help you. I'd feel better if someone was there with you, though, in case you slipped or needed something. Would you mind waiting?"

I consider it, but I'm wearing his shirt and nothing else, which means he's probably already seen the carnage that is my skin. He isn't exactly offering, but I'm desperate enough to get clean that I'm ready to assign volunteers at this point. I don't know how long it'll be until they find me and I want to enjoy the simple creature comforts while they're available to me. I don't know if I would be more comfortable with Rosalie, but I'm not willing to wait. Although I still feel relaxed, I can't help the feeling that I need to be clean before I can attempt to sleep again. Now that I've really looked at it, it's all I can see. I steady my neck and slowly shake my head. It's not much, but I know he sees it. He feels in my emotions, I think, or I make it clear in my expression that I'm not telling him that I don't mind waiting, but that I don't want to wait.

His expression is torn; he seems to be debating in his mind.

"I don't think you should go alone, is it alright that I help you?" I squeeze his hand, hoping that he understands it as an answer. My head is still feeling a little dizzy from my last attempt at communication so I don't attempt to nod.

He takes an unnecessary breath and nods to himself, slowly moving to pick me up. He pauses at the last second.

"Is this okay? I don't know how else to move you, I'm sorry."

I squeeze his hand again to try to assure him. I don't know how I will feel later, but for the moment I don't care about anything else, I just want to be clean. I know, rationally, that the water and soap can't wash his hands off of me, and I wonder if it's just a matter of time before Jasper's patience runs out and he decides I'm not worth it, but for now I can't shake the feeling that this will help, even a little.

He carries me slowly to the large bathroom, flipping on the bright light and reaching out to turn on the water. I close my eyes for a second, adjusting to the blinding change. I see the red eyes waiting behind my vision and regain my sight quickly, trying to shake the feeling of dread that just made its reappearance. He holds his hand under the water, probably trying to guess at the temperature. I reach out too, putting my fingers under the water. It feels freezing to me and I can't help the shiver at the unexpected cold. He notices, of course, and turns it warmer. I reach out myself and turn it all the way hot, that arm feeling more functional than the other. If he knows that I shouldn't be bathing in scalding water he doesn't stop me, I need the heat to try to get _him _off of me.

He flips the drain closed and the water fills, the steam rising and settling on every surface, the tiny moisture beads gathering on the tile floors and Jasper's granite skin, forming rivulets and cascading down his chest. The tub has filled about a quarter of the way before he stands, pulling me up also. He sits me on the sink and supports me with a hand on my shoulder. With the other he tentatively reaches for the top button of his shirt before he seems to think better of it.

"Do you want to leave it on?"

I consider it briefly, but it's also covered in blood from my earlier episode, so I don't really want it on. I brace myself and turn my head to the side, only a tiny bit, but I know he sees it.

"Only if you're sure. You can still wait for Rosalie, if you want."

I repeat the action, turning my face slightly and he sighs, reaching back for the top button. He doesn't speak as he carefully undoes the top button with one hand, his eyes glued to mine, probably looking for any sign of discomfort. Although I recognize that this may have made me upset without his influence, I'm still thankful for the numbness. I watch him dispassionately as he continues down the front of the shirt, holding it together as he unfastens each button. He finishes, but he's still holding the fabric closed. He moves me to the edge of the tub, supporting me with an arm around my back. I appreciate his effort, but I don't care if he sees me, he probably already has. After surviving James, twice, I feel like public property. As long as he doesn't hurt me I don't care if he sees, and somewhere deep inside I think I know that he won't hurt me. Or at least that if he wanted to hurt me he would have by now.

"You can still say no, are you sure?" I narrow my eyes at him minutely, trying to convey that I will be unhappy if he asks one more time. He seems to get it and nods again to himself. He takes another unnecessary breath and pulls the shirt away from my body, setting it behind him, keeping his eyes studiously away from me. For the first time since... whenever it was I was taken, I allow myself to survey the damage.

The ribs that have been hurting so terribly are black and blue, so dark that at first I miss it. I glance at my legs again, the fingerprints clearly visible on my skin. I look up at Jasper, waiting for the revulsion, but I don't find it. He's looking at the ground, his expression impossible to read. I can't see my face, but I know it's still swollen and probably horrific looking, and my eyes are probably pretty red. I glance again, something out of the corner of my eye catching my attention. It's then that I see it for the first time. In dark, angry, sickeningly clear letters, the single word etched into my skin that wasn't there when I lost consciousness, the reminder that even though I'm with Jasper now, he'll never really let me go. This is only an intermission in the game, it's just beginning.

My surprise seems to throw off whatever he's doing to me and the calm slips, I mange to lean over the garbage can before I empty my stomach into the small plastic container beside the tub. It's excruciating, especially without his help, but I hold in the pain, the tears running down my face but unable to scream even if I wanted to without choking. I'm further sickened when I realize that the trash can contains only blood, little of it my own. I know that Jasper won't judge me for it, but I doubt the other Cullens will be so gracious. I need either him or them to help me if I'm not going to get caught again right away, and I know I won't survive if I do, not in this condition.

I look up at him, his calm mask hasn't slipped. Either he has an amazing poker face, or he's seen it before. Almost as soon as the concern fills my mind I'm calm again. I know he's doing it, but I need that right now, so I don't fight it. It isn't as strong as before, I have better control of my muscles, but it's enough to temporarily chase the depressing thoughts from my head. Whatever happens, right now I'm with Jasper. I have no choice but to make the best of whatever time I have. I can't believe he hasn't figured it out yet, what I am, what he's done to me, but I'm not going to tell him if he isn't asking.

I relax infinitesimally, but something about that action throws me. My vision spins wildly and out of habit I reach my hands back to try to steady myself. My hands find no purchase in the empty air behind me. Jasper catches my arm, but I'm so startled and off balance that I yank away from him before giving myself permission to do so. That serves to move me even further from any sense of balance and I fall unceremoniously into the tub, sideways.

I settle for a moment, collecting my current situation to devise a way out. One knee is still over the side of the tub, my foot not quite still touching the floor. The other hit the faucet pretty hard but is in the bath. My shoulder is throbbing where it impacted the shower wall on the way down and my hair is wet from my head falling under the scalding water. I must look like a drowned flamingo right now, all awkwardly sprawled limbs and pink skin from the temperature.

Jasper looks on, clearly trying to determine what he might be allowed to do to help.

I can't help it, whether from Jasper's influence or my own hysteria I burst out laughing. My ribs are killing me, both from the fall and from laughing, and the tears falling down my face are partially from pain, but I laugh.

The man just stares at me like I've lost it.

Maybe I have.

I laugh hysterically at nothing for another minute or so until I can't handle the pain in my ribs anymore, the tears continuing to trek down my face even after the hysteria dies down. It feels like more effort than it's worth to try to shut them down too, and some strange logic says that I might as well get the waterworks over with while I'm in already in the bath. I don't let myself think of the real reason I'm still crying, only the temporary pain in various parts of my aching body. I know if I start to cry for my emotional scars, I'll never stop.

I finally manage to pull in my other leg so it's also submerged. Seeming content that I'm relatively better, Jasper carefully lowers himself next to me on the floor, looking at me like I might try to jump out and attack him, or make a run for it, at any second. He takes an extra towel and unfolds it, laying it over me in the bath to cover me. The fabric turns translucent in the water and then starts to take on a pink shade. The boiling liquid licks at my skin, but that is calming to me right now. I imagine that it isn't hurting me, just burning off his touch and his influence on me. I relax so far into the steamy water my head almost falls under again, but before I even realize it Jasper has his hand in the water, supporting my neck. I shiver at the cold of his touch and he mistakes it, moving to take his hand back away. I catch his arm and hold on; trying to convey that he shouldn't dare move. The cold reminds me, but the steam and warm bring be back. I teeter back and forth, his influence keeping one foot firmly on the side of sanity.

He runs his other hand tentatively through my hair, his eyes asking permission. I manage a small motion of affirmation and he reaches for the small hotel shampoo I didn't notice that he'd moved to the ledge beside him. He's sitting on the ground next to the bathtub, facing toward my head with his legs stretched out toward the door. He dumps the whole container into my hair and it occurs to me that even though my hair is short, I might need it all to get all the blood out of it. The water is already a hazy light pink color and Jasper pauses his task to start the water draining while more continues to pour in.

My mind is strangely silent as he rubs it through my hair until all of it is covered in pink suds. I can't help but smile, the sight oddly amusing to me in my current state.

He glances at me, a concerned look on his face, but continues to wash my hair. He reaches for the conditioner as well. He finishes quickly and pulls me up, wrapping a dry towel around me loosely and then reaching for the shirt again. The water has pretty much washed the blood on my body away by itself, but I don't want his shirt with more blood on it. I can feel that the swelling has gone down on my face, so I try my second attempt at talking.

"No" I say, fairly clearly, pointing to the blood on his shirt that he's getting ready to put back on me. He seems to be considering my request, but then nods, sitting me down on the counter and making sure that I'm balanced before reaching for the last towel, gently drying my hair until it isn't dripping anymore. He throws the shirt into the draining bathtub and I see the blood starting to lift from it. Despite the situation, and probably a good measure because of Jasper's influence, I find myself transfixed with the scars on his chest. Oddly enough, I wish that I still had his mark on my neck.

In one second I think it and in the next it's out of my mouth, as if his influence or exhaustion has completely obliterated my brain to speaking filter.

"Fix it." I mange, leaning my neck to the side to point out what I mean. I'm not certain I mean now, but I might. I don't want his mark on me, not with Jasper right here to fix it. I don't know how much longer I'll have Jasper, so if I have to carry it around I want it to be his. The physical pain doesn't scare me; it would be a minor addition to the already long list of healing injuries. What frightens me more is the idea that I could live the rest of my days, however few or many they might be, carrying around James, rather than Jasper, in such an obvious claim.

He pauses what he's doing for a second, obviously puzzling my request.

"It's healing as well as it will, I already cleaned it before you awoke, I needed to do something or you would've kept loosing blood. From here I think it has to heal on its own, although I'm afraid it's going to scar pretty significantly."

I'm frustrated by my lack of ability to communicate, and I can tell that he feels my frustration and is trying to figure out its cause.

I reach a shaky hand to the back of his neck and pull his face to my neck, my head spinning from the change in angle and proximity. I can't quite eliminate the fear, but I ignore it in favor of my quest. His stance is stiff, clearly not understanding what I'm trying to do and uneasy about my reaction, even though I'm the one who pulled him into my personal space.

"Fix…" I manage again, having to pause to regain my breath from this position, "yours, not his." I run my fingers along the angry raised skin to indicate what I mean, willing him to understand.

I can tell exactly when he figures it out.

"Holy hell Alice, how can you even joke about that right now?" His voice is a low hiss and it startles me, even through my Jasper induced haze. A violent shiver escapes before I repeat my mantra- this is Jasper. He's still close to me but he's put enough space between us to be able to see my eyes. I must have visibly started at the sight of the intensity of his expression because he pauses; searching my face and probably emotions to make sure I'm not upset. I am, at least a little, but mainly because this seemed like the only mark James left that Jasper could erase.

"You almost died today."

This is news to me, but it doesn't surprise me. It also doesn't change that I want him to fix it, but I can tell that he isn't going to be convinced. As if hearing my thoughts, he repeats "no" to himself, quietly.

"I won't ever hurt you, not again."

Although I'm sure it's meant as reassurance, I find that it has the opposite effect. It seems like the only way he can promise that is by leaving, and I need him to stay.

He picks me up, a towel around my torso and another in my hair, and takes me to an adjoining room, pulling back the covers of that bed and laying me down before covering me with them. I'm relieved to be in a clean bed and I take a deep breath, my jaw having healed enough now and had enough movement that I should be able to talk again. He moves to walk out of the room, and I don't know where he's going.

"Please stay." I whisper, knowing that if he plans to leave, I can't stop him.

"I'm going to bring a chair from the other room. I'll be right back." I swallow, the action still a bit painful, and don't respond, praying that he actually will come back. I finger the beads around my neck; at least half of them are stained crimson from however long they were sitting in my blood. They're probably ruined, but there's no way I'm getting rid of them. They'd been a funny joke to James, by some miracle, so he'd always let me keep them. I think they reminded him that he'd won.

I glance up and am surprised to find Jasper already back in the room. I'm slipping, I didn't hear him. I'm going to need to pay more attention if I'm going to manage to stay away from James for any amount of time on my own.

Now that I'm cleaned up, I'm surprisingly awake. I know that if I don't say it now I'm not going to, so I want to get some things out in the open before the others return. I feel gently along my jaw, finding it to be much less swollen and tender than it was even a few minutes before.

"I didn't mean to not tell you about James."

"Then why didn't you?" His eyes flash to mine; it's clearly a question that's been on his mind.

"I didn't remember. I guess I just made myself forget. It wasn't when I was human... more human, it was when I was like this, but I made myself not remember until I sort of... forgot, I guess."

I can't find the right words to explain it and I pray desperately that he believes me. He looks searchingly at me, but doesn't question it. I realize that I'm going to have to lead this conversation.

"How long was I gone? I was... unconscious for some of it... and I don't know for how long."

"Forty six hours," he responds immediately, my mind working overtime trying to figure out how much of that I might have lost.

"twelve minutes. Fifty two seconds."

I look to see if he's kidding, but his face is serious.

"I was unconscious when he took me from the forest, but he said we went to the others first, Laurent and Victoria. I don't remember anything until the next evening when I woke up. I was awake all the next day, until we stopped for the day, but then I was out again until now. I guess I didn't miss that much after all."

He still doesn't say anything, probably having nothing to say in response to me thinking aloud.

"It's only fair that I warn you, he won't give up. This is all a game to him; he planned from the beginning to give me back if you acted like you were following. This is the real game for him, the sport of tracking me back down and getting me from you guys. He took me this time just to see if you'd chase. He won't stop until one of us is dead."

This time he does respond; his eyes narrow and a fire burns in them that makes me cringe away. He looks murderous and I feel my breathing pick up, my body responding to danger even as my mind tries to convince it not to.

He doesn't see my expression, I don't think, because he stands. My instincts scream and I fight back the panic, gripping the blankets beside me into my fists. This is Jasper, I'm safe with him. I repeat the mantra, but every time I blink, it's James, not Jasper in the room with me. I sit myself up, moving away unconsciously although it is still excruciating to do so. I pull my legs to my chest, but the hand prints are still there, clear as day even through the sheets. He flashes from pacing across the room to holding me down, his hands occupying the perfectly shaped bruises, the switch repeated with every blink of my eye.

A quiet, constant whimper starts, but I don't recognize that it's coming from me. I hear him muttering curses under his breath as I fight for control over my mind. He paces away, blond, James, on the pace back his eyes are too light, Jasper, trying to change for me. I blink. Crushing weight, my hands above my head, pinned. I blink again. Pacing, frustrated, and angry, but Jasper. I try to keep my eyes open, willing them desperately not to close as if it were voluntary. My eyes start to water, it does the same thing, and James is back. In my obscured vision I can still clearly see him stalking over to me, his impossibly strong hands forcing my knees apart. I might have screamed. I don't know for sure.

Then... nothing. It's as if my entire world has been paused. My eyes shoot up to his; it's solidly Jasper now. He's completely still, his back against the wall and his eyes wide.

"Is this okay?" he asks quietly.

"I can handle it by myself now." I tell him, hoping that it's true. He doesn't move, but the resume button is pushed in my mind. I can feel again, but he's still and silent. Although it still takes some effort, I manage to calm myself down on my own.

"I'm so sorry, Alice. I wasn't thinking. I don't know how to handle myself sometimes, if you want me to go find Rosalie now I will."

"Please stay."

He seems to consider this for a moment, finally settling something in his mind and returning to his chair slowly.

"When that happens, when you close your eyes, when you're shaking like this, you see me as _him_, don't you?"

His voice isn't accusatory, more a haunted, morbid curiosity. I hadn't noticed I was shaking, but I still am. I pull the pillows closer to me, forming a protective wall around my body and delaying having to answer him. I know that my emotions and nervous actions are telling him all he needs to know, the truth that made his words more of a statement than a question. I just don't want to have to admit it out loud. I know it's childish, but saying it makes it real.

The silence continues; he's waiting for me to confirm what we both already know to be true. I don't know why I need to say it, but he doesn't seem interested in continuing the conversation until I do. Finally, I nod slowly, the closest he's going to get to verbal confession on this point.

"I shouldn't be here. Rosalie was right; I'm in over my head. I need to go find her, she can help you."

"No!" I startle us both with my outburst, every inch of my jaw and throat protesting just as loudly at the sudden abuse. I do my best to ignore my throbbing face and continue in a more even tone that better hid my panic.

"If you do nothing else for me, please stay; at least for now. I know I can't have you forever, and it's selfish for me to want to hold on to you now, I need you. It isn't you. It'd happen with anyone right now, but at least this way in the moments in between where I can see clearly I can know that it's you and you're here to help me."

My words started to slur in the end, a protest of using my jaw too much right after I regained use of it, but he understood and it was worth the pain to say it. He couldn't leave.

He seems torn, probably thinking that what I want and what is best for me is probably not the same, but in the end he sits back down, his eyes still guilty. I breathe again; I hadn't realized that I'd been holding my breath, awaiting his decision.

He's staying. At least for now.

* * *

Thank you all, I love hearing from you!

Also, a rec- I'm betaing a really interesting Edward/Angela story- it's worth a shot. It's well written and interesting; worth checking out if you're looking for something different.

It's called Count My Blessings by Momo16

www. fanfiction .net/s/6832222/1/


	42. Pause

Question: Has it been a million years?

Answer: Yes. I'm sorry. But I'm engaged! Good and bad news... but, know. I'll never give up this story, don't worry about that... it's just going to keep being slow.

* * *

Chapter 42

Alice

"Please stay." I repeat to myself, my fear slowly receding as my eyes stay locked with his. He meets my gaze, unblinking, until my heart rate has returned to something near normal.

As I calm down, my brain is firing randomly. There is so much I've wanted to tell him in the last two days, and so much more that I don't want to say and should. Added to the things I'm trying not to give him a chance to ask, there's just no way to organize it all. Things just pop into my head, and I figure any place is as good as another.

"How long ago did you find me?"

"Two hours. You were... in this cabin sort of place, an old house, I suppose. It looked like it had been abandoned."

I remembered more than enough of that place; I don't know if I'm ready to hear any more, given the fact that he didn't seem as surprised as I was to discover my new-found marking.

"He wrote that in my skin after I was out. I didn't see it until a bit ago."

I figure that is probably obvious, but feel the need to explain my strong reaction. He doesn't respond visibly, just keeps his eyes on me, letting me tell him what I want him to know. I'm not ready to talk about details, but I figure it's only fair that I continue to warn him.

"You wouldn't be here with me if you knew what I've done in the last two days, and for a long time before that. They kept me for two years a long time ago. She told him I was dead, that's the only reason he ever left me alone in the first place."

He growls quietly under his breath, but keeps his anger contained this time.

"I'm not leaving unless you want me gone. Whatever he did to you wasn't your fault."

His voice is steady, but his eyes flash. I can't read his expression, but it's intense. I fight back the fear. This is Jasper. He wouldn't hurt me. I fight back a sardonic smile instead. He _would_, and he _has_, but my basis for comparison is James, and anything Jasper has done or might consider doing would be nothing compared to him. My standards are a bit off, I think, but I know that completely safe or not, I need Jasper. My mind finally registers what he said and the smile drops from my lips.

"What about what _I've_ done, Jasper? You have no idea. I don't expect you to stay. I'm not who you thought I was. I'm not who _I_ thought I was." My voice is thick, dropping to nearly a whisper. "Everything makes sense to me now."

His jaw is tense; I can tell that he's trying to keep his temper. I stare into his eyes, daring him to lose it again. I'd trade almost anything for this conversation; I can't hear the promises borne out of ignorance. He wouldn't mean what he said if he knew what I am, what I've done.

"Alice, I need you to hear me. I will never look down on you for something you did to survive. I am not going anywhere."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Alice, I don't blame you; not for anything he made you do, anything he did to you, or anything you did to keep yourself alive and out of harm's way."

I don't believe him, but I've fulfilled my duty in warning him. We'll see when he actually knows what he's talking about, but for now I'm going to lean on him for as long as I have him.

"I'm sure you have some questions. I don't know if I can answer all of them, but I can try." As much as I'd tried to avoid this conversation earlier, I know that it's coming eventually and right now it seems less harmful than the current one.

He looks uncertain, as if the act of asking might break me. I hold his gaze, knowing that this is only going to get harder as the others show up. I'd rather tell him and have it disseminated than have to keep saying it.

"Why did he take you? Before, or now, do you know?"

"No. He never told me. Probably because he knew I had no one after my father was killed. He always showed more of an interest in me around the institution, but Nathan never let him very close to me. Maybe it was wanting what he couldn't have. This time it was impulsive, he thought I was dead until he ran into me."

My words sound flat, even to me, but detached is the only way I'm going to make it through any of this.

"Institution?"

I guess it makes sense that he would pick up on that. Is the fact that I have visions not enough of a hint for him?

"An insane asylum. I hid there for protection, but they took me because of my visions. It wasn't pleasant, but they meant well."

He nods, seeming satisfied on that train of thought.

"They call you Mary. Was that your name?"

"How do you know what he called me?"

"He left me a note." Jasper doesn't elaborate, but the set of his jaw tells me there is something worth knowing about the note. I file it away to find out later. Another oddity occurs to me from that sentence.

"Wait, 'they'?"

"I spoke with another, shortly after you were taken. He helped me figure out where James might take you. He also knew you."

"Laurent."

"That is what he called himself."

The thought of them together pulls my mind under before I can fight it. I hold on to the sheets for dear life as the flashback takes me. It was the first time Laurent found out what James was really keeping me for. I think he may have known before that, but he just didn't want to see it.

I thought naively that I might be saved. I thought that he would put a stop to it. I don't know why I thought his opinion would matter to James, but I figured another of his own kind might be able to get through to him. It was in the first week I was there, probably. It could have been the second, I was still adjusting to the lack of sleep and the abuse on my body, the days burred together.

In the beginning, James would stay with me while the others fed. I think they suspected, but he would take me out of house so they wouldn't know for sure. That day, though, he stayed in. I don't know if he'd gotten lazy or if he just didn't care if Laurent found out, but in my sleep deprived state I was feeling fearless.

_I'd talked back to him not once, but twice while the others were gone, and he'd spent a good amount of their hunting time beating me back into submission. That meant that by the time he got to his favorite part of his punishment, which he termed "making up", they were already about to head back._

_For whatever reason, that day it didn't bother him. Victoria had lagged behind to find someone to force feed to me, so Laurent came back alone. I know that James must have heard him coming, but it didn't stop him. When Laurent came in he was holding me to the wall by my neck, barely conscious. He was wearing some of his clothes, I had none of mine. I'd stopped struggling by that time, as I was barely breathing. I remember I fought my way back to the light when the door opened, hoping that he would be disgusted with James and somehow make this part of the nightmare end. I knew that I could handle the rest if this stopped._

_Rallying myself allowed me to hear the whole conversation that I now wish I didn't remember. The proud smirk on James' face said most of it, he looked as though Laurent should be amused, maybe impressed. His tone was lilting, as if this was some grand practical joke he had been keeping from his friend and was now revealing._

_"You had to know, Laurent, surely you did?"_

_Laurent didn't move, his motions still halted, taking in the scene before him. I tried to catch his attention, to beg him to save me, to throw me out, to get angry, to do something, but he just stared at James. His accent was more pronounced when he talked slowly, I remember that now._

_"James, what are you talking about? What are you doing to her?"_

_I don't know why he asked, maybe the shock of it all, because it was probably pretty damn obvious what he was doing, but I still held hope. I knew James was far too proud of himself to lie, and maybe this would be the last straw._

_If I thought he looked pleased before, it was no match for the jubilant look on his face now. _

_"What does it look like, friend? Why not enjoy such a fine pet as this one, so much stronger than the others and yet still so breakable? She's fabulous, really, perfect. You wouldn't even imagine until you've had her. She's burning hot; as I'm sure you've felt on her skin, she's glorious. You'll give in to curiosity someday soon, I can tell. You won't be sorry either."_

_Without another word, he turned around and left. He just left. He shut the door behind him and James turned his attention back to me with an insane smile on his face._

When I pull myself back together, I brave a look at Jasper's face. His eyes are narrowed, and the wooden armrests of his chair are sawdust on the ground.

"What was that?" He nearly growls, forgetting his composure just long enough to make me forget my surroundings. He pulls himself back quickly when he realizes what it's doing to me and softens his expression.

"Laurent and I aren't on good terms either, although I'm glad he helped you."

I know that he knows there is more to it than that, but after he seems to consider it for a moment, he lets it go.

"You never answered, why Mary?"

Mary. The name swirls around my head, echoed in James' voice over and over. My human family called me Mary, I suppose, but I don't really remember much of them. My father called me Mary Alice and everyone else over the years has called me by whatever name I invented for the few months I'd stay. I can't think of the name without its immediate connection to him, and I hate that.

"I was born Mary."

"Why Alice?" He asks, probably wondering why I didn't trust him with my real name. If he only knew.

"Mary Alice. I was Mary Alice Brandon."

"And now?"

"My dad called me Mary Alice, no one else was allowed. My original family and then James and the rest called me Mary, so I've chosen new names everywhere I've been for years. When I met you I knew I couldn't just give you just any name, I wanted it to mean something, but I couldn't be Mary anymore. So I decided on Alice."

He nods to himself, taking a minute to absorb my explanation before moving on to his next question.

"Can you tell me what happened in the forest? Why didn't you yell for Esme or Rosalie?"

I pause, considering my answer. It was something I had puzzled over yesterday, but I'm still not sure why.

"I just couldn't. I couldn't think of anything but him, him and you, whether I was ever going to see you again. It was all too much. I hadn't thought of him in decades, to have all of those memories just appear at once. Then, when I realized that it was really happening, that he was going to take me again, I freaked out. I think I was unconscious before he even touched me."

"Was he feeding you humans?"

I look away because I know that he already knows the answer. I haven't seen my face in a mirror, but after so much blood, especially in such a short amount of time, I'm almost certain my eyes are a darker red than his right now.

"If I refused, he would kill more. It wasn't optional. I hope the others aren't upset." I'm trying to convince myself as well as him, the image of the man from yesterday as vivid as the moment it happened.

"They'll understand." He seems confident, but I'm not so sure. I don't offer him my opinion, however, knowing that it'll just make him worry. I wait for whatever he might ask next. He takes a deep breath and I can tell that he's not going to keep pulling punches.

"Alice, what happened while you were gone?"

This is one that I'm not ready to answer. The sensations appear with each memory and I'm not sure how to form words which make sense. The last thing I want Jasper to know is what I've done in the last few days, but eventually he's going to find out. My mind pulls up fragments of thoughts, but each time I open my mouth to say something it disappears. How do I answer that? Nothing benign has happened to me since I was taken, with the singular exception of being unconscious- asleep or knocked out- and even then I woke up with a new tattoo the second time. I can't help but shiver thinking about it and I reach for my stomach, feeling the uneven skin under the thin towel. I decide the only way I can give him even a semblance of what he's asking is by starting small. I decide I can handle a few details. I tell him the first random thing that pops into my mind- a discussion I had had with myself earlier about why he hurt me yesterday worse than usual.

"He used to mainly only hit me as punishment, and I suppose it wouldn't have mattered in the long run in only two days. It also wouldn't have mattered because I had already done something worth punishment, but this time was different, because he needed to make sure you had motivation to find me and play the keep away game he had planned. It was just a trap and I was the bait."

"Worth punishment? Alice, nothing you could have done justified his behavior toward you, you have to know that. What happened that you thought he was punishing you for?"

I don't know how to describe to him the situation in a way that avoids sex, as it was central to the incident he's asking about. I feel his frigid hands on my skin, digging into the muscle of my hip to hold me in place while his other hand was wrapped around my body, keeping me captive to his advances.

I remember shivering from the cold around and inside of me, and I find myself shivering now, whether from the cold or the repressed horror I'm not sure. He notices, of course, but he has the good sense to keep quiet about it.

"I know this doesn't make sense to you, looking at it from the outside, but with him there were always rules. I know that they don't apply to other situations, but with him they were law. I knew what I did was against his rules, but it'd been so long that I forgot how to handle it any other way."

I'm telling him the truth while trying to give as little context as possible. I can see that he's frustrated with my vague answer, but if he wants me to speak, this is what he's going to get.

I wait for him to respond. I know that he'd rather just let me talk, but I want to know how little I can get away with and still pacify him for the moment. I only just woke up and the last thing I want to be doing is going through all of this right now. The silence stretches on, waiting for an answer to a question he already asked. His expression is open, giving me space, but if the conversation continues, he wants to know. The longer he is still and silent the more convinced my mind becomes that he's not really here. I know it's irrational, but without the constant reassurance of his voice I'm afraid that my eyes are closed and I'm really with _him_ still. After what feels like a year, I break the silence, desperate to hear his voice and prove myself wrong.

"I covered my ears to block him out."

I think he has a pretty good idea that either I wasn't blocking out his speaking to me or I'm leaving something else important out, but it's an answer to his question, so he seems to accept it.

"I should have been there. I should have never left you."

Although his words are wrong, his voice, that reassurance, is my lifeline. I don't like what he's saying, but I'd listen for eternity if it meant he'd keep speaking.

"You didn't know. I didn't even know. I was the one pushing to go to school when you knew I'd be safer at the house."

"I'm not used to trying to defend, protect someone. It's much easier to destroy, to attack; I've never been on this side."

I nod, trying to convey understanding, but I don't understand. His words bring back pictures of him from visions, from before I even knew him, at the most inconvenient time. He's commanding, training an army of newborns. I see him speaking sharply to them, and if his words didn't register, nearly casual violence ensued. He could rip one limb from limb and burn them without a second glance. The worst visions were his time with Maria. She was beautiful and deadly, just like him. They were nearly as rough with one another as they were with the newborns. I never saw them too close, but I saw enough to remove any doubts about the nature of their relationship. They reminded me of James and Victoria. I hate my visions for that.

"I never thought I would regret any part of my second life, it seemed so consumed by death that nothing could hold me accountable. What is the worst that could happen to me? They could kill me again, it would only be relief. Then I met you and I realized that there is so much worse that could happen to injure me. Someone could hurt you. And now they have, and for all my years, I'm nearly useless to protect you."

I've never heard Jasper speak like this, and I assume it's because we're alone. I always knew there was more to him than met the eye, now I'm hearing it. It's sobering.

"Why?"

He looks at me questioning, clearly trying to make sense of what I'm asking.

"Why me? Why do you even care? You didn't have to come, you don't have to stay, and you never had to before, either. Why are you still here? Why does what happened to me matter to you?" I'm so afraid that this is born of guilt, that when he's made it up to me he'll be gone. I don't want him to stay out of guilt.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"You feel strangely guilty?" I offer my best guess, hoping that I'm wrong.

"No, Alice. I stay because it's you. You're… different to me, I've never met anyone like you."

"You're staying because you've never seen crazy before?" I ask; my skepticism apparent.

He shoots me a look that withers the tiny smile on my face.

"I'm staying because everything changed the day you found me."

Now that might take some processing. I always knew he would be important to me, I saw him for years, but I had no idea that I was significant to him as well. I knew that he played along with my games and traveling and the like, but I sort of assumed this was some sort of extended vacation to him, not anything real.

"I'm not that girl anymore." I feel the need to keep warning him. I need him to know, even though I still can't tell him why.

"Yes you are. I still see it in your eyes; I still sense it when I'm around you."

I don't really know what to say to that, so I stay silent.

"I'm not leaving, Alice. Tell me what you think I need to know; or don't, for all I care. Whatever you did, whatever he did, whatever you think will make me abandon you; it won't."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Try me."

"You're so smart; tell me what you think happened."

He pauses for a second, searching my expression, probably to see if I'm serious. I am. He takes a deep breath, running his hand over his face, and his eyes slowly make their way back to mine.

*_*_*_*Jasper*_*_*_*

I don't want to play this game, but I want her to hear that I actually have a pretty good idea what happened to her and will still stay. I'm getting frustrated by her attempts to chase me off and if this will put an end to that, it'll be well worth it.

"I think you got abducted by a sadistic bastard who scared you senseless, toyed with your sanity, forced you to kill, beat the hell out of you and more than likely raped you."

She flinches as if struck when I say the word, as close to confirmation as I'm going to get until she's ready to talk about it. My own words make me sick, the crude summary making the situation more real to me.

She doesn't answer; I'm not sure I expected her to.

We just sit there, staring at one another, her eyes deep and searching. I don't know what she's looking for, but I let her look. Finally, she breaks the silence.

"Don't you see? I'm not worth it. Why are you still here?"

"None of that was your fault."

"I let him. I didn't even try to fight. I'm… a _whore_, a _slut_…"

I can hear in her tone that those aren't originally her words. She looks into the distance as if she's just repeating them back to someone.

"He lied to you. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't your job to stop him; he was threatening you."

"I temped him, I wanted the attention, I asked for it, I didn't stop him. It's my fault."

This sounds like another list of things she's been told, and I have to remind myself that he had her for years before, plenty of time for conditioning like this. It makes me sick. We conditioned the newborns, but they had mere days to live after we took them into battle. She's had this locked away in her mind for a lifetime.

"It's a lie, Alice. You did nothing but cross paths with a psychopath all those years ago. You are not responsible for his actions. He's a vampire, Alice, and you still have some human in your veins. You aren't strong enough to stop him."

She doesn't hear me anymore, I know that because she's started whispering under her breath and my words don't even earn a pause. She's staring through the doorway into the other room, but when I follow her gaze I find nothing but open space. She's repeating a list of offensive names and her chant tells me that the list is familiar to her, it's in the same order each time as if she's reading it off the wall or repeating it directly from his lips. The more she says it the more upset she's getting, and I think she's not in the room with me at all right now.

Nothing else seems to be able to get her attention and she's getting more and more visibly unsettled. Finally, I can't take it anymore. I can't get her to respond to me and I don't dare touch her to try to get her out of it, so I send her enough calm to knock her out, catching her before she hits the bed and helping her lie down.

I hope she won't hate me when she wakes up like this and realizes that I used my influence to calm her again, but I can't stand seeing her in pain. I can't take it away for her, but I can at least trick her body into responding incorrectly and not telling her. The last hour and a half have been some of the most difficult of my life, possibly including the days she was gone, only second to the intense relief and the devastating pain of the two hours before that. Where the hell is Rosalie? I was sure that they would be back by now. Even Emmett could have been helpful; he seems to know what to do with her. All I have is my gift, and it probably just agitates her, given her first response to it. I'm woefully unprepared to deal with this situation.

When she woke up, I wasn't sure I should even be in the room, but I didn't want her to wonder if she was still with him. I was so relieved that she wanted me close that I didn't pay close enough attention. I saw that she was falling back asleep, I didn't realize that I shouldn't stay close until she was suddenly wide awake and frozen, every muscle in her body on high alert. I found that one out the hard way.

When she started coughing, I have never felt so useless in my life. She was nearly hysterical and the pain was etched so deeply in her features that I felt it and I had no idea what to do. I couldn't erase from my memory her face that first time when she woke up under the influence of my gift and the last thing I wanted was to make her more upset, but I couldn't risk her health, or life, so she left me no choice. Even after she told me it was alright, I felt bad, and I'm pretty sure it's the only reason she allowed me to help her clean up before Rosalie got back. I'm afraid she's going to feel manipulated when she looks back at it later, but I couldn't exactly leave her to fend for herself; not until her body heals enough to handle her mental distress. Even with my intervention, she's been tense and wound tight, as if she's just waiting for something bad to happen. I wonder if she expects him to come take her back.

It hadn't occurred to me that she wouldn't have seen her torso before an hour ago. I feel like an ass for not... I don't know, warning her or something. For not giving her some hint that there was her own personal horror story memento carved into her body. Then her expression when she realized that the entire contents of her stomach were blood... I thought for sure I was caught. I just knew that she'd be furious with me, because who else in our group could have been responsible for that? Thankfully, my instinct to hide my thoughts gave me time to recover sanity and realize that with her scent and her eyes she'd been fed at least five humans since she was taken and she didn't associate that she'd been unconscious through another feeding, but from my hand.

As I helped her clean up, my eyes moved without my bidding to rest on a dark bruise or deep cut for much too long, but by some mercy her eyes were closed. It was as if each one was a direct taunt toward me, mocking me for my stupidity in leaving her vulnerable and nearly alone. I might as well have caused each myself, I couldn't have given him an easier target if I'd gift wrapped her to a tree out front and sent him an invitation.

Trying to talk to her was just about impossible, but when I realized that that my anger toward James was taking her back to him I couldn't believe how far my incompetence reached. The girl had been beaten literally black and blue for the last two days and I lose my temper in front of her, what the hell did I expect her to do?

I had felt her rising emotions, but in the torrent of my own, I had mistaken them. I had expected her to be angry with him, for stealing her away and tormenting her, and in our combined emotions I had missed the true nature of hers.

Each detail I pried out of her seemed more and more likely to be the last. She shut down when I tried to talk to her about it, so I had to try another route. I need her to know that I don't blame her, whatever else he did or she insists that she did, it caused her to survive and make it back to me. Then she gave me the way out, by asking me what I think happened.

When I spoke it… I was frustrated with the whole situation. I hated that she felt like she had to hide from me, that I would leave her if I knew, and I told her exactly what I've seen in her reactions. I gave her just what I thought he'd done to her sparing no words and I think we both recoiled. I saw it in her face. I couldn't believe that I'd said it out loud, and neither could she, apparently. It still makes me sick to think about. I won't look down on her for it. Even if he just about promised me he'd abuse her, it was clear in his scent on her and her injuries that not all of those bruises came from violence by itself.

Those are the bruises that I can't tear out of my mind. I've never seen the bastard, but I know exactly what size his hands are. Seeing matching twin hand prints in dark purple and black all over her thighs... I will never forget that as long as I exist. Even though I didn't see it happen, I can put more specifics than I would like together by the shape and placement of them. He was brutal with her, and most of it wasn't from the beatings that are also clear as day.

I can't turn off my mind, and my brain instantly stages the situations that could have ended in each angled hand print and every bruise that told a clear story of intimate violence. Before I can stop myself, I have a list of every possible permutation of how he could have given her those injuries, and it's not something I wanted to know. I war against it, but my logic works faster than I can rein it in and each scenario is constructed, Alice's part played by her, and the other by a faceless vampire with exactly the same size hands as are on her body now.

By the time Rosalie and Emmett finally get back, I'm on my last minutes of sanity, or at least that's the way I feel. My mind is conspiring to drive me mad, the silence giving carte blanche to the torture of picturing her with him. I see my reflection in Emmett's eyes as his expression drops from relieved to on guard in half a second. He holds out an arm to stop Rosalie from entering, taking the bag from her and indicating back to the main room.


	43. Aware

**So... got married. That was pretty cool. If I had any idea how to put things on my profile I'd put up a pic :)**

**Hopefully now things will settle down and I'll do better updating :)**

**Chapter 43**

**Jasper**

I see in the reflection that my eyes are a murderous black. He sets down the shopping bag just inside the door and circles around the edge of the room slowly, eying me like a wounded animal, which may be exactly accurate.

"It took us a while to find somewhere open at this hour. We had to head west a while, but we found it."

"Get out," I growl, unwilling to share my misery. I know that he hasn't done anything to me, but I don't want him here, it feels wrong.

"You've been thinking about him, I see."

I remind myself again that this isn't his fault, but that just reminds me whose fault it is; mine. I'm temporarily defeated and resign myself to his company. In a rare moment of honesty, I respond.

"I can't stop."

"I'm assuming she woke up?"

I bite back the scathing remark about the likelihood that I would bathe her while unconscious; I may well have if I thought it would've helped.

"Briefly. She didn't want to wait for Rosalie. She couldn't speak for a bit, as her jaw healed a little more, but she was talking fine by the time she went back to sleep."

"Did she tell you anything?"

"Not much. She wanted to know what I thought happened to her. I told her."

"How did that go?"

"Unwell." I don't feel the need to expound.

"Were you right?"

"Yes."

He's silent for a second, pulling his hand roughly through his hair.

"Damn Jasper, those bruises... she didn't have to say it, he might as well have left another note."

"I still need her to tell me. I need her to see that I don't blame her."

I wasn't sure of that until this moment. I need her to hear it from me, to see it in my face, and she can't have that until she finally trusts me enough to tell me.

"She may not be able to talk about it for a long time. It's still hard for Rose sometimes."

"I can wait."

"I can't imagine that you still don't see it, Jasper. She's _it_ for you, and everyone knows it. I think you do too, you're just afraid to admit it."

The sharp retort dies on my tongue as I consider his words. I have always been skeptical of the mate bond, it seemed like just an excuse for risk and weakness to me. I'm not sure I believe that still. I've never met anyone like Alice, and I've never been so affected by someone else's misery. I've cared for no one but myself in the years since I've been changed and nothing has challenged that until this tiny sprite skipped into my life. She's changed me, something that dozens of years and hundreds of others have been unable to do. He sees it in my expression when I finally meet his eyes again.

"Yeah, I think you see it."

He doesn't need my affirmation. It's too intense to deny, he's right. Looking back on it has thrown it into sharp contrast. I can't lose her again.

"I'm glad, man. You seem like you need a little peace."

I scoff at his wording, the last thing that Alice, or I, have experienced in the last weeks of knowing one another could be described as 'peace'.

"It's crazy, sure, but however crazy it gets out there, there's something to having someone with you at the end of the day."

"Even if you're right, we're not exactly at that point." I try to word delicately what we both know to be true- even before this mess Alice and I were not exactly at the 'mate' stage of our relationship.

"You have eternity, be patient."

"She doesn't."

"Maybe she does; she's lived a long time already, I think, and she doesn't look it."

I've never considered that she may not age either; she seems so fragile that she must have a lifespan.

"Either way, I don't think she'll be pushing you away long. She needs you, and she seems to have seen it before you have, up until this point. And if she doesn't have forever, maybe finding you will make her want it."

"Not after this. She's never going to want another man near her after that bastard."

"It'll take time and patience, sure, but it won't last forever. She'll figure out how to cope and heal and she'll move past it- probably better than you ever will."

I'm silent, absorbing that information. I know I certainly will never outlive the memory of her lying there naked on the ground, the bruises, the scarring… but if she has a chance at recovery then there is still hope.

It only takes the pause in the conversation for my unconscious to seize the opportunity and begin animating the scenarios again. Either I am projecting emotions are I am being transparent, because Emmett notices almost immediately.

"Stop it. You can't miss being here for her today because you weren't there for her yesterday; it only ensures that you'll spend tomorrow alone, regretting today."

His words are oddly deep for Emmett. I don't say so, but he smiles proudly. His expression melts pretty quickly when he meets my eye again.

"I can wallow while she's asleep at the very least, I need that."

"You're picturing him with her, aren't you?"

"It's not a choice."

"I did the same when I first saw her injuries, I couldn't help it. The curse of our intellect, I suppose. We had our venting time while we were out, maybe you need to take an hour while she's asleep and do the same."

"I can't leave her. Not again. She hasn't even seen Rosalie again yet, we're not sure she'll even be helpful. She responded to me surprisingly well earlier, too well. She even let me calm her down. The first time I tried when we first met she just got more upset."

I don't add that the only reason she's unconscious right now is because of my gift, it seems unnecessary and I don't really want him to know.

"Then talk to me. You can't expect to be there for her if you're keeping all that in your head. You just about took me out earlier."

He's right, of course, whether or not I'd like to admit it. I take a deep breath, reminding myself of my promise to do whatever it takes to help her, even letting the others in.

"You should have seen the expression on her face when she admitted to me that he'd been feeding her humans. It was clear as day, you'll see at as soon as she opens her eyes, you can even see it in how fast she's healing, but she's terrified of what the rest will think. It's strange though, there's more than that; she kept telling me she had no choice as if I'd blame her.

"I can feel her distrust; she doesn't believe that I'll stay once I know what happened, whatever detail or situation she doesn't think I know. When I told her what I thought she shut down again. She told me it was her fault and kept getting more upset when I tried to show her why it wasn't. Then she checked out entirely… she started chanting this list, these names he called her, terrible things, and she wouldn't listen to me or snap out of it. It's like I wasn't even in the room… or she wasn't."

"It'll take time and you have practice on your poker face. As long as you don't let her see if she shocks you you'll be alright. I know we have a pretty good idea of some of it, but I'm sure there's some you couldn't put together and will still surprise you. Just make sure not to react in front of her, especially not to get angry at the bastard. I doubt she'll do well around potentially violent emotions right now."

I don't tell him that I've already figured that one out the hard way.

"I don't know what else she could tell me that I haven't already considered from her injuries."

"Not all scars are visible, Jasper, and he had her before. Just keep it in mind."

"Did you find her clothes?"

He doesn't call me on avoiding his comment

"Sort of, we found her children's clothing, and that's probably the best we're going to be able to do until Esme brings her one of her fitted dresses from home. We bought her one of those and one woman's in the smallest they carried, so we'll see. We also picked you up a new shirt, which by the look of things, you'll end up needing." He tosses me the loose button down and I pull it on, not wanting to alarm Alice when she wakes next.

"Good. She didn't want my shirt back on after she got cleaned up because she got blood on it, so she'll probably be relieved to have clothes before the others come."

I wince, remembering the coughing fit earlier. "Also there's a good amount of blood on the other bed, which is why I moved her. We should get that fixed. She started coughing when she first tried speaking and just about choked. I didn't know what to do, so I calmed her down. I was afraid she was going to lose consciousness again if I left her."

"Rose'll take care of it, it'll be fine. How was she communicating with you after that?"

"After a bit she was doing fine, she was talking normally and her jaw seems to be doing better. I think she didn't need much to be able to heal herself, just to be fed and left alone." I still feel a bit guilty about my part in 'feeding' her, but she can take it out on me when she's up and around, alive. Even if she could have eaten normal food with her jaw, which was unlikely, it wouldn't have helped her heal like the blood.

"Maybe we won't need Carlisle by the time he gets here."

"Probably not for his medical knowledge, but it's still more defensible to stay together. Especially if he sees this as a game of catch."

"Sick bastard."

It's an understatement and he knows it, so I don't comment.

We're silent for a while, but every time my mind wanders he seems to know it and brings up something meaningless to distract me. I'm not sure if it's minutes or hours, they all seem to pass in about the same amount of time. I finally agree to leave her briefly for Rosalie to dress her, but I don't go further than the other side of the bedroom door, and as soon as she finishes I return to my post. Rosalie stays in the main areas after that, leaving Emmett and I in the room with her. I get the feeling that I'm there to watch her, and he's there to watch me. I would mind, but it means she's safer, so I allow it.

After some indeterminable amount of time, I feel her stir. At first I think she's just dreaming again, but her heart rate rises slightly and she keeps shifting, so I decide she must be waking up. At the last second I realize that it may have been a good idea for Emmett not to be here when she wakes. I indicate that he should leave, but it's too late.

Her eyes open just as he's standing to leave and in an instant she's awake, her eyes locked with his. It's so strange to see the innocence gone from her expression, just the murderous red remaining. It's unnerving, to say the least. They both freeze before she backs away, nearly losing her balance before she catches herself, running into the backboard of the bed. I'm very glad Rosalie found her clothing in this moment, as this could be a little more difficult otherwise. Her attention finds me in the chair beside her, Emmett not daring to move as her crimson eyes dart between us, clearly trying to gain her bearings.

Her eyes fall lower on Emmett and stay; I follow her gaze to a gold band on Emmett's left hand, a detail I had never noticed before. I've never seen either of them wear rings, although Carlisle and Esme do. I imagine it would draw too much attention in high school, but it doesn't seem strange that they should own and at times wear such props. Alice, however, seems horrified.

Her voice is raspy when she speaks, and almost too quiet to hear.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't want to. Tell her I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

She's rambling apologies to Emmett and both of us are lost. Tears are pouring down her face as she apologizes, over and over, to Emmett and someone else, a woman he's supposed to convey her apology to as well.

"Alice, it's me, it's Emmett. You didn't do anything to me, you don't have to apologize."

She looks longer at him, as if trying to judge his sincerity, before her eyes clear and she speaks again, her voice less shaky, but still uncertain.

"Emmett?"

"Yeah, little thing, it's Emmett. You're okay, you're safe."

She surveys him a moment too long, her posture freezing briefly before turning back to me.

"You're still here?"

"Of course I am. I'm not leaving, Alice." She seems to consider this for a while, her eyes falling on the far wall and staying there, focusing and unfocusing seemingly at random. As suddenly as she zoned out she seems to snap back, her eyes falling to the dress Rose put on her earlier.

"What am I wearing?"

"Rosalie and Emmett went out to find you something. She came in and got you dressed while you were asleep."

She seems to accept this and lies back, closing her eyes but clearly not going back to sleep. "Where is Rosalie?"

"She's in the other room; do you want to see her?"

She doesn't respond out loud, but pushes herself slowly to the edge of the bed, grabbing the table for support as she gets up. She sways for a second, and then resolutely walks, although very slowly, to the door. She stumbles on the raised carpet of the threshold. I know I can't get there in time to steady her and I can see that Emmett is terrified to move and startle her. She can't reach the wall or the door to catch herself, so her only options are to grab on to Emmett or fall. It seems to be a decision for her, but at the last second she steadies herself on Emmett, her hand catching his arm. She looks even tinier next to him, her little hand not covering half his bicep.

She freezes, her hand still on him and her eyes closed. I feel her fighting to stay present. Emmett doesn't move, he doesn't even breathe; he's waiting to see what she does. As soon as her composure slips, she begins to collapse. Emmett moves to catch her, but before he can touch her I warn him to let her fall. It goes against every instinct, but I can feel that she's not in the room right now and I can only imagine what his touch would be interpreted as in her mind. She hits her knees hard, her arms covering her head to protect herself.

After a few seconds, she comes out of it on her own. She pulls herself up off the floor, ignoring Emmett's offered hand, and continues on her way; sending Emmett a small apologetic smile as she leaves.

***_*_*_*Alice*_*_*_*_***

Waking up doesn't seem to be getting any less disorienting, at least not yet. I don't know why he was standing in the first place, but the motion drew my eye and stopped me dead. I drained him, just yesterday, and yet Jasper sits here like nothing is wrong as the dead person watches me. His skin is the pale white of an apparition and he's still wearing his wedding band.

I decide it to be a dream, the situation so bizarre that it had to be, so I figured it must be my chance to apologize to him. When he looks confused, I just kept talking. I need him to know that I didn't want to do it, that I didn't have a choice, and that I was so sorry to his wife that he would never go home to. When I figure out that it really is Emmett, I'm a little confused, but then it comes back to me. I'm in a hotel with Jasper, James gave me up to start the game, and I'm safe for the moment.

I try my best not to cringe at the endearment, as he doesn't know that James calls me 'Little Black' more than any of the other names.

I ask about Jasper, and he still assures me he'll stay. I seriously doubt that.

If he knew half of the things I had been forced to do to with those men he wouldn't accept me so ignorantly. I want to scream at him to leave me alone, to chase him away before he finds out and runs.

I remember the punishment one of the first few times I disobeyed. He told me to toy with my food; leave her alive as she screamed in pain. I couldn't handle it and crushed her neck, trying to make it look like an accident. He knew, though. He always knew.

I saw the rage in his eyes and knew that something terrible was about to happen. He tethered me and left, returning with a much younger girl. He untied me and dared me to move, telling me that my next punishment would be much worse if I interrupted. He told me right in front of her that what would happen to her was my fault for not listening; that she would be happily living her life with her family if not for me.

He tortured her and used her right in front of me. She screamed and begged for me to help her and I couldn't move. I was so afraid of what he would do if I disobeyed him again. I knew that I couldn't stop him, even if I tried; I would just make it impossibly worse for her. I also knew that even if I was able to stop him, the best I could grant her was death, only to have James immediately replace her with another, or several others. I saw the betrayal in her eyes as I let him break her. As the life finally drained out of her eyes, she was staring at me, even in death accusing me of my part of her demise.

I pull myself back, realizing too late that I've zoned out again right in front of them. I ask about the clothes that seem to have materialized on my body. At the mention of Rosalie I decide to go investigate. I haven't been free to move on my own for a few days, so I want the chance to get up and move, even if only to the next room. I don't expect either of them to understand, so I don't voice my desire, I just act on it. The room spins a little as I get up, an annoying reminder that I emptied my stomach into the bathroom trash can who knows how long ago and my system is now ready to be fed again. I pause to wait for the room to settle and then push myself up to my feet. Neither man moves to help me, but I'm assuming that's intended to be a disarming move. I don't mind, really, my intention is to do it myself. Each step is slow and careful, the last thing I need is to fall on my face, but I'm focusing so much on looking ahead of me that I miss looking down.

I know that he sees in time to do something about it, they both do, but neither moves. The decision is left up to me, and I just about decide it isn't worth it when my natural sense of preservation kicks in and I catch myself, my hand hooking around Emmett's arm to keep me vertical. I flinch, waiting for the hit that will almost certainly re-break my jaw. I fall to my knees, ignoring their sharp protest, hoping to lessen the blow or allay some of his wrath. The ice of his skin takes me back before I can even take a breath, as I try, unsuccessfully, to fight it.

His skin is so cold and strong as stone, but I have to try to stop him. He's not going to just kill that girl he's cornered as my dinner. I grab his arm to try to slow him down and he stops, turning slowly to face me. He doesn't say a word, just hits me, hard enough to knock me over. He has already broken her leg; she isn't going anywhere, so I'm the first course in his sick display. In the end I only made it worse for her. He raped me right in front of her and then had his way with her anyway. I shouldn't have intervened, which was usually the case.

When the blow doesn't come, I remember where I am. The cold skin isn't his and the transgression won't be punished. I open my eyes to realize that much less time has passed than I expected, a welcome change from the usual opposite, and although both sets of eyes are fixed on me, the expressions are far less tortured than I've come to expect. It must not have been as bad as I thought. I slowly pull myself back to my feet. It would be much easier if I took the hand offered to me, but I have no desire for a repeat performance. I try to convey my apologies to Emmett in my expression and continue toward the main room of the hotel.

Rosalie is sitting on the bed I occupied earlier, a fashion magazine open in her lap. I notice that the sheets are changed and a glance into the open door of the bathroom reveals no sign of Jasper's shirt or the bloody mess that I made emptying my stomach. Rosalie glances up from her magazine, indicating with her eyes toward the foot of the bed before returning her attention to the page in front of her. She doesn't react at all at my changed eye color, just goes back to what she was doing. I take her indication as the closest I'm going to get to an invitation, so I move carefully to the edge of the bed, shuffling onto it and leaning back against the foot board.

"Thanks for the dress." I offer, hoping to break the silence.

"You're welcome. I actually bought you something too small, for probably the first time, ever before or ever again. I was shopping in the children's section, so I had to put you in the bigger one, which is obviously a bit big."

I glance down at the garment for the first time, noting its size to be about what my old dresses were, big, but also that James' regimen must have caused me to gain weight, as was his intention. My obvious first response is to get rid of the extra weight, but I know that if he catches me like that it'll just be worse. I store that decision away for later evaluation. If it looks like the others will keep me away from him I'll know I'm safe to go back to my normal coping. For now, it'll just have to stay.

"It isn't bad. The dresses Esme had made for me probably won't fit right now anyway, so it's just as well. The one I was wearing had the back fasteners torn out, which is probably the only reason it still fit."

She keeps her eyes on the magazine, turning the page every once in a while, although I doubt much of her attention is on it now.

"Why do you say that?"

I choose my words carefully, knowing that I have an audience beyond this room as well. "He made sure to feed me well, while I was gone."

"Humans?" Her tone is disinterested, although she certainly already knows, having seen my eyes. For just a second the man who looks like Emmett has a woman like Rosalie for a wife. I picture her out looking for him, reporting him lost to the police and praying that he'll come home. She'll probably never find the body.

"Yes."

"If there's one thing I know about you, it's that you don't eat what you don't want to. Why'd you let him feed you humans?"

And there it is. Why did I let him? The answer is obvious, although there's no way she'll understand. The alternative was worse. He'd kill more if I didn't, waste lives until I caved in. His demands would get more violent and sadistic the longer I resisted, it was better for both his victims and me if I obeyed earlier rather than later, because in the end, I would yield. He never lost.

"He'd kill more if I wasted them and the demands would escalate. If I did what I was told earlier there was less death." As well as humiliation, abuse, violence and threats... although I'm not ready to discuss that yet, even with her.

"Why would he care if you fed or not?"

How does she know what to ask? It's as if Edward is behind one of these doors feeding her a list of topics I don't want to talk about.

"He's a sadistic crazy, how would I know?" Although I've perfected hiding, I've never been a great liar. I guess the two skills probably trade off in their honing. She doesn't buy it for a second.

"You know." It isn't a question, it's a statement with an air of finality.

"I might." I'm not in the mood to dance around the truth, but I don't want her to know the answer. She levels her glare at me, but I don't look away. She taught me something completely useless against a vampire as self defense- I don't owe her. James laughed in my face when I tried it. I don't want her to know, but I find myself telling her before I can stop the words.

"Your training was useless. It didn't even faze him." It's partially a distraction, but it's more what I came out here to tell her. I wanted to believe that she was teaching me something that could help me be independent, better able to take care of myself, and in the end it just made me less confident and more dependent when I tried it with such disastrous results. What was she thinking? I made an earth shattering decision to trust her and she let me down. I know, rationally, that it isn't her fault, but I can't get the feeling of betrayal out of my head. Her tone is level when she responds, not a hint of either mockery or defensiveness.

"It wasn't meant for him. You didn't tell me you had a vampire after you. I was teaching you how to take down a quarter grown human who was getting handsy, not a mature, and, oh wait, _invincible,_ vampire."

I want to point out that she didn't tell me that her training was for humans, but I know that I'm grasping at straws here. Why would she tell me that? _I_ didn't even know that I had a vampire looking for me. I feel like I need to justify, again, not telling her. I don't know why I need people to know I wasn't just keeping James from them, but it seems important to me.

"I didn't remember. I blocked him from my memory from the year after I got away from him before until the second I saw him in the woods again a couple days ago."

"That's impossible." This seems like a strange time to doubt me, especially after just having experienced how poorly I lie on the spot.

"Humans can do it, I guess I can too."

"You really just... forgot him?" For the moment she forgets her magazine facade, and I know I've had her attention the whole time.

"I mean, sort of. It's not like I didn't know it had happened, if anyone had reminded me I would have known, but I just sort of forced myself not to think about it without consciously knowing I was doing it. Eventually I made myself forget by not allowing myself to think about him for so long, I guess."

My explanation sounds ridiculous, even to me, but I can't think of a way to explain it better.

"The others will be here before too much longer. We'd better get something ordered for you to eat. It's getting light out; it shouldn't be difficult to track something down. You'll need your strength for the trip home. We can't afford to be out in the open right now, we need to be on our ground."

I'm a little surprised that she hasn't commented further on my diet for the last few days, but if she doesn't want to talk about it, I certainly don't. I'm not excited about whatever she might be deciding on for me to eat, but as long as it wasn't recently part of a family, I'm not sure I care. This isn't something I'm ready to invest energy into; I'll fight that fight later, if need be.

She puts down the hotel phone definitively and announces that breakfast will arrive soon.

"How the hell did he get you out of that forest without you so much as attempting to scream? Esme and I would have heard you if you'd struggled and it might have bought us some time."

I'm not a fan of the frank questions, but I'm not looking to be coddled either. I know that we're not out of danger yet, so this isn't just a casual conversation. She's trying to figure out what went wrong the first time to stop it from happening again, so like it or not, I am going to answer or she'll keep asking.

"I froze. It's a lot to process, all at once, the existence of years of your life you've blocked. And it's a bit of a shock to encounter someone so significant and realize that only the second before you didn't remember him. I knew what he was capable of and I knew that my only chance was to try to talk him down from taking me. Making a scene wouldn't have helped, you wouldn't have made it to me in time and it only would have made it worse for me, even if I hadn't freaked out."

"So you were just sitting there watching while he wrote that note to Jasper in your blood? It seems like at some point you would've had a chance to do _something_."

"Jasper mentioned a note too. I never saw it; it must have been after I was unconscious. He wrote it in blood? That must have been where the little cut came from. It seemed uncharacteristically careful of him to make it that small."

I'm surprisingly calm, and I imagine that it has to do with the man on the other side of the wall. I'm not sure how his gift works, but I know that this probably isn't normal.

"Were you awake for his other note?" She indicates with her eyes to my stomach. She's trying for disinterested again, but I catch her glance at the other door, and I'm pretty sure I hear a low growl from the same location.

"No. I woke up with that one too."

"It might heal." Her eyes are focused a little too intensely on the page and she hasn't turned it in a while.

"It won't. He knows the difference. If he wants it to scar, it will. He puts venom in it. I can feel it, it won't go away."

I can see the tension in her jaw as I speak, it's obviously bothering her more than she wants me to know. Finally she gives up pretense, throwing the magazine on the floor. It falls cover down and I can see that the inside pages are mangled from her hold.

"Then how the hell are you so calm about all of this? You just remembered out of the clear blue that some psycho abducted you and tortured you for god knows how long and you remembered it when he took you again. What the hell, Alice?"

I think about that, it is a bit odd, I'll admit. I'm sure some of it is Jasper's influence and some if it is probably just still being in shock. The rest, however, as I've been able to think about it, is just that I finally understand. I've been responding in crazy ways to people for years, and now I finally get it, I feel justified in my behavior and it's sort of... a relief. I've already figured out how to deal with all of this, minus the whole repression thing, and now that I know what I'm dealing with, it seems less daunting. I've survived this before, and even left to my own devices, I'll survive it again. I'm not sure how to tell Rosalie that, however, so I decide on blunt and concise, a combination she should recognize.

"I'm already a freak, now I know why. I was more worried when I didn't know why I acted like this, now I realize it's rational."

This clearly isn't what she's expecting, so she pauses to think about it.

"I guess that makes sense."

It seems odd to me that she accepts something I myself acknowledge as strange, but I'm coming to realize that everything with Rosalie is a little different than I expect.

Silence falls in the room and I close my eyes, trying to take in the last hour or so I've been away from him.

_Him_, his eyes appear in the back of my mind and I shiver, the raging crimson depths dragging me under. I snap my eyes open only to catch his reflection in the picture frame beside the door, my hand flying to my mouth to muffle the startled scream that already escaped. I don't realize that I'm shaking again until Rosalie is right in front of me, her hands on mine, trying to steady me. She's looking me in the eyes, talking to me directly and slowly, but I can't hear what she's saying. My eyes dart around the room, waiting for him to appear out of nowhere and take me back. I should have known better than to get comfortable, he even told me that he's coming back for me.

Finally, I found the courage to look back at the glass of the picture frame, the place where I saw his reflection before. I gasp in shock. His deep red eyes that had startled me so much looked out from my face.

I want to tear them out, to be sick; to lock myself away until my eyes are black, as they have been so often before.

Rosalie is still talking to me, and as the blood recedes from my ears I can finally hear her.

"You're safe, he's not here, Alice, it's okay, you're okay, steady, doll, you're okay." When she realizes that I can hear her she moves back to her side of the bed, not bothering to pick up her magazine again but giving me back my space.

She glances at the door and it directs my attention to a set of uneven footsteps coming down the hall.

There's a knock on the door and Jasper materializes before Rosalie takes a second step toward it. It's a bit surprising, but I don't flinch.

"Cool it, captain. It's the room service. You heard me order her food. Listen for a second, he's definitely human."

They both pause for a moment before he lets her pass, trailing behind her. She opens the door to a tired looking young man, certainly human, rolling a small cart. Rosalie takes it from him and pulls it into the room, raising a questioning eyebrow at Jasper and closing the door.

"Satisfied?" She asks; Jasper doesn't respond. She pushes the cart over to me and he looks around the room, probably looking for a place to settle. Emmett has migrated to a couch in the corner and Rosalie sits with him, giving a pointed look between my food and I. I sympathize with Jasper's indecision. I think I want him next to me, but I'm not sure right now. I feel the pull of his presence, but I'm afraid to give in to it. Finally I decide that he can make it alright if need be. I pat the bed next to me and he comes to sit down on the opposite side of the bed. He leans against the other side of the foot board, looking at me to see what I'll do.

* * *

I tried to find a happy-ish note to end on. Did I do it?

Also, some oneshots are done, should be up.. maybe this week?

Love you all, please don't forget to review!


	44. Bold

All of the normal apologies apply : )

I won't abandon the story, even if the updates are taking forever. If you stick with me I'll stick with you, deal?

Love you all.

**Chapter 44 **

**Alice**

Honestly, I'm a bit curious as well, but for the moment, I seem to be fine. I pick at my food, my eyes never leaving his. If I had my way I'd never close them again. I know that the rest of the Cullens are coming, and that there are others already in the room, but nothing else really matters to me right now. Anything I say to him will get to the rest of them one way or another, so I don't really care that they're present.

"I don't understand. You shouldn't want me anymore."

I catch Jasper's wince and don't understand it until I follow his line of vision to Rosalie, she's seething and it seems that she's projecting as well.

"Alice, I will tell you as many times as you ask; nothing that happened in the last three days or the last three centuries could change how I feel about you. As long as you want me, I'll be here."

"I've killed, Jasper. Not clean, hunting kills. I've toyed with them, kept them alive and screaming."

"As have I. I did it of my own free will."

"Jasper, he- I- there were others he… hurt, like he hurt me, it was my fault, he told me that he would if I didn't obey and I chose not to. He… he raped them, dozens of them, girls, younger than I was when I was changed, children, Jasper. He went after children because of me. He made me kill them when he was finished, he made me watch and told them it was my fault. I see their faces in my dreams, Jasper. I can't get away from them."

"Those are his actions, Alice, not yours."

"I didn't even try to stop him. I just let him have me; I just let him have them. I gave in even when I was at my strongest. I should have fought, I should have stopped him; I should have done something."

"No, Alice. You knew what he'd do if you did. You did everything you could; you survived until we could find you."

"The last man was married… my God, Jasper, his wife is waiting at home for him. He's never coming home, she'll never find the body and have closure; she won't even have a grave to mourn. James made me… he made me… _distract_ him… made me- on my knees- Jasper; his last moments were with me. He was so good to me… James stripped me down and showed him how battered I was… he told me I was still beautiful. I did as James said… he begged me not to… then I drained him." The tears are falling fast now, and my confessions are not making me any lighter. The terror and shame of the last few days is nearly drowning me as my words are punctuated by sobs. "He looked like Emmett." I manage in a whisper. "I killed him."

"I've killed for less, Alice; you did what you had to."

Something occurs to me, but I realize that despite my other confessions, there's no way I can say it in front of Rosalie and Emmett. Everything else will get back to them; this can't. I know that he's coming back for me, and this is really my only chance to make him promise me that I will never be James' again. It can't wait for us to get back to the house, there's no way we'll be alone then. Now is my only chance. I meet his eyes, needing him to see how serious I am before I speak.

"Rosalie, Emmett, I need to talk to Jasper alone for a minute."

"Are you sure?" She asks, clearly wondering if it's the best idea.

"Yes. Would you mind giving us a minute? I need you to go somewhere you can't hear me."

"If you're sure, I guess. We can go to the airport, I think the others will be here soon; if we get the car for them we can save time. I imagine we'd be gone at least a half an hour, are you sure that's what you want?"

"Yes."

She nods to herself, clearly not entirely convinced, but wanting to honor my request. Jasper's eyes stay on me, his mind no doubt trying to work out what I might want to tell him that I wouldn't say in front of the others.

The door closes behind them and I wait, just watching Jasper and trying to put together my thoughts in the best way to get him to agree. After what feels like an eternity, he breaks the silence.

"They're out on the road, they can't hear you anymore."

I take a deep breath, preparing myself. I have to just ask, it isn't going to get easier and I won't have the chance later.

"Jasper, promise me something, please." My voice is barely a whisper, the silence giving it time to begin to protest its recent overuse.

I can see that I have his attention, but he doesn't respond audibly.

"Promise me that when you leave-" He opens his mouth to interrupt me, but I stop him by holding out my hand, needing him to let me finish. "Promise me that when you leave you'll help me before you do. The others won't understand; they won't let me have this. I need you to promise me that you'll help me end this before you leave. I won't go back to him again. If I'm going to die I want it to be on my own terms. Promise me that when you get tired of babysitting me, you'll help me end it before you leave."

His eyes are onyx black, the color having steadily drained from them as I spoke. I feel my body begin to react, even as my mind is fighting against it. The shaking starts first and I have to clench my teeth to keep them from chattering audibly. The thought flashes through my mind that I might just get my request before I anticipated, a concept I am oddly at peace with, despite my unbidden fear.

He's closed the space between us before I see him move, and suddenly I'm standing, having been pulled off the bed and up to my feet in a single, unseen motion. I find myself against the wall, his face inches from mine. His lips are drawn in a fierce snarl, his eyes wild.

"Never" he growls, his voice low and hard.

My heart is racing but I manage to keep my breathing fairly even. I'm not afraid of him, not in my sane moments, and I know that even if he loses it I'm still better off. There is nothing that he _would_ do to me that would be reason enough to fear him, even in this proximity.

"I'm not afraid of you." My voice doesn't waiver, despite the best efforts of the adrenaline running through my system.

"Maybe you should be."

I don't know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from, but for some reason I find myself speaking my mind. I stand up straighter, eliminating the need for his hand supporting me by my arm. He releases his grip, moving to brace himself on the wall beside me.

"Why? You might kill me? He will, and that's a certainty. I'd rather die by your hand than his."

"You don't know what I'm capable of."

"Yes I do. I also know what you're _not_ capable of, which is why I'm not afraid."

"Are you sure?" He asks, his lips dangerously close to mine. I can taste his scent he's so close, I find myself fighting the drug-like quality of his proximity.

"Yes." I respond, my voice still sure even as my mind begins to doubt, the warnings finally beginning to register.

His black eyes bore into mine, the rage boiling just below the surface. His voice is quiet when he speaks, barely contained emotions lending it an edge I've never heard before.

"He won't lay a finger on you again, not while I'm standing. The next time James comes near you it'll be the last thing he does, and _that_ I will promise you. I will tear him limb from limb until _he_ is the one begging for death from my hand, and only then will he find it. You're mine, Alice, and although you are wrong about what I am capable of, I will never touch you without your consent. I _will_ have you, but only when you are ready." His eyes sweep my form appreciatively, a blush rising to my cheeks despite the gravity of the moment. His eyes are still dark, but the anger seems to have evaporated, something else entirely having taken its place.

"The things I will do when you will have me, Alice. I will make you feel pleasure like you've never imagined; then it won't be death you'll beg me for, and that is another promise." His eyes leave no question as to the meaning of his statement, and I can't tear my gaze away. I'm fascinated, ensnared; everything else in my universe has disappeared leaving just us, just this moment. I'm vaguely aware that something has just changed between us, something significant. I'm also somewhat aware that there's a reason I shouldn't say what is on my mind, but if there is I certainly don't remember it.

"I look forward to it." I reply brazenly, causing his eyes to darken impossibly more.

He leans closer, breaking eye contact finally by bringing his lips to my ear. I can feel the cool of his skin radiating toward my overheated cheek, the contrast is heavenly.

"As do I."

He pulls back, his eyes meeting mine again, a nearly imperceptible smirk forming on his perfect lips. I don't know how long we stay like this, unmoving, memorizing every detail of this moment before he breaks the spell.

"You need to rest. I've kept you up too long already."

I open my mouth to protest, to tell him that I couldn't be more awake, but whether from his influence or the intensity of our most recent encounter, I find myself unable to keep my eyes open. I nod, allowing him to lead me back to the bed and lying down, closing my eyes and drifting quickly to sleep.

**Jasper**

I watch her drift off, her breathing quickly becoming more even and deep. My head is still spinning, trying to come to grips with the last hour or so. Of course the most pressing question is what the hell just happened with Alice. When she asked me that, to help her end her life, I reacted without any intention to do so. Something about her question triggered an instinct so visceral in me that I had pulled her up and out of her bed before I had even realized that I'd moved.

I have no idea what I was doing, but it was as if I had no choice in the matter. Of all the times for this to happen, this was probably one of the worst, she's barely had a moment to collect herself from James' madness and I'm in her face. I can't believe she isn't running from me right now, freaking out, in the middle of an insane flashback or cowering in the corner. I am not the one who should be here with her right now, and yet she chose to have this conversation away from the others. If she had any idea how that was going to go I'm not sure she would have made that decision, but it turned out better than I could have hoped for, especially considering that in that moment, I gave no consideration how she might react.

The idea that I could lose her, that there could be a world where I exist and she doesn't, threw into sharp contrast what she is to me, a realization that still has me reeling. The answer is simple and terrifying: everything. She's become my world, essential to my existence. Only after I told her out of instinct that she is mine did I realize the truth of those words. The unspoken addition is that I'm also hers. The concept is exhilarating and terrifying, to be so intertwined with the fate of another. As I play the conversation back, over and over, I hear how aggressive that came across. I can only hope that the next time she wakes she remembers it with as much courage as she faced it a few moments ago.

Hearing her recount details of her last few days were excruciating, but knowing that after all of that she still thought there was a chance I'd leave her for him, that was inexcusable. She had to know that I would never let that happen. Even I didn't know how true those words were until a few moments ago. Something about her lack of fear triggered me closer; she had to know that I'm not as safe as I've appeared to her, especially in the frame of mind I found myself. I would never have pushed her to prove my point, but in my past I have been more than capable of the horrors she fears. Again, the words came from my lips as if drawn from me; I heard them as if for the first time after they had already been spoken allowed. In my right mind there is no way I would have said the things I did, especially risking her reaction right now, but I was far from my right mind.

Her response… it was also far from what I expected. I can feel my eyes begin to darken just at the thought. That's the last thing I need to be focusing on right now, but I can't help it, that woman will be the death of me. She's excruciating and beautiful, irreplaceable and delicate but so strong when she should have been crushed by so many things before.

***Edward**

I've never heard my brother in such obvious distress. He wasn't with us yet when we found Rosalie, and none of us really knew her before that, which is the only possible comparison I can draw. Nothing fazes Emmett; it all just rolls off of him. When he called earlier to say they'd found her, he was beside himself. He said that we needed to meet them in some middle of nowhere town in Northern Canada because he wasn't sure she could be transported yet, they'd found her in really bad condition. He'd gone on ahead to book a hotel room and Rosalie had gone for a car; he'd said they couldn't even run with her. He didn't say much about her physical condition, but he did tell me to make sure Carlisle came prepared. He mentioned that she was unconscious and lost a lot of blood as well as a couple things were broken.

Although we had to get going, he talked to me while Carlisle was getting everything together. I think he just needed to get it out. The conversation keeps playing over in my mind as we get off our last plane.

"_Edward, I can't even describe it. I'll never forget it, as long as I live. I can't believe Jasper had to see that. He just left her there, naked and bleeding on the floor."_

"_She's safe now, Em, we can fix her."_

"_I don't know if we can. He tore into her where Jasper marked her, and then... he carved the word 'mine' into her. She was just lying in that filthy place unconscious. He messed her up really bad. Her arms and legs... Edward she had fucking bruises everywhere exactly the size and shape of hands. She smelled like humans, half a dozen of them, and him. His scent was everywhere on her. It was awful for me; I can't imagine what it was like for him."_

"_I don't know, Em, but he's strong. He'll make it, they both will."_

"_It's not over. He just left her there for us and took off; he plans on coming after her. It's some sort of sick game to him."_

"_We won't let it happen. Carlisle and Esme are packed, we need to take off. We'll see you early tomorrow."_

"_I just don't know how we let this happen, right in front of us. Jasper told us we shouldn't be leaving them that night."_

"_I know. We all do. It's just something we're going to have to live with, we can't go back now. I'll see you in a few hours."_

"_Yeah, see you."_

He didn't exactly sound convinced, but I'm not certain that I believed my own words either, at least not yet, so I don't blame him. I'm dreading seeing the image replayed in their thoughts for the next few hours, and if I could have my way I'd selfishly steer clear until they've had a chance to let it sink it. I'm thankful I wasn't there, but I'm still going to see it in three perspective diorama, from each of them. Needless to say, even though I want to be there for my family, I'm not looking forward to this trip. More than that, I'm afraid of what I'm going to see from Alice. I have no doubt from Emmett's description that she will wake with some pretty horrific memories. Selfishly, I don't want to know. It's the curse of my gift, not being able to control what I hear.

Carlisle shuffles us through the small airport relatively quickly, Esme and I lost in our own thoughts. I barely notice that Emmett and Rosalie are waiting for us at the rental office, keys in hand. Carlisle retrieves them and we all pile into a black SUV, taking off at more than twice the legal speed.

"How is she?" Esme ventures, clearly afraid to hear the answer. She blames herself, we all do.

"She's awake. She asked for some time alone with Jasper." Emmett's tone was subdued, it even more strange to hear in person.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Esme wonders, her mind recalling Rosalie in her early days, lashing out at Carlisle and I.

"She was insistent. Actually, they were alone together earlier when she first woke up as well; she seems to be taking his presence in stride."

"Let's hope that luck lasts through the next few days until we can get her back to the house safely." Carlisle interjects, thinking of the production it would be to sedate her and get her through customs and security. He considered having her airlifted in a hospital helicopter, but quickly dismissed the thought; it wouldn't take long for them to notice some of her more obvious differences.

No one responds aloud, but everyone's mind is moving quickly. I fight to keep my mind on my own thoughts, but the voices around me keep breaking into my own. Emmett's concern is clear; he doesn't think her calm will last much longer. Esme is shattered, her mind still replaying the day she was taken in agonizing detail. Rosalie's thoughts are angry, she's furious with James, but also with Alice's reaction. She hates that Alice has barely batted an eye, even while discussing her captivity. She remembers how difficult it was for her and is frustrated that Alice seems to be able to let it roll off of her so easily. She wants to help but she can't figure out how, she feels just as guilty as Esme that she wasn't there.

It feels like a split second before we arrive, although I know that's just my dread making the ride seem faster. Carlisle puts the little car in park and we file out, each grabbing one of the bags from the back seat and trunk. One of them holds clothing and normal travel items, mostly for Alice, while the rest hold medical equipment of all description. Emmett wasn't very specific about her injuries, so Carlisle basically brought everything we could check on a plane.

The walk up to the top level feels like a death march, the beginning of an end. I know I'm being overly pessimistic, but I can't see how this is going to end well for Jasper or Alice, or any of my family that is already too involved. My brave words for Emmett melt away as it really hits me how much I'm about to see and hear. Emmett knocks loudly, even though both occupants of the room would have heard us coming.

I hear a sharp intake of breath, realizing a minute late that she had been asleep when we first arrived. I hear Jasper whisper calming words, telling her that it was just us. That thought doesn't calm her much, hysterical thoughts of all of us crushing into her space as soon as the door opens fill her head and she asks Jasper to stay with her.

"Come in." He calls to us as normally as he can manage. Emmett steps forward with the key and we all file in, careful to move slowly and predictably to help her stay as calm as possible.

We leave the bags along the walls, spreading out to sit around the room, Esme venturing closer than either Carlisle or I. I sift through their thoughts, piecing together parts of the last half an hour through their memories and trying to make sense of it all. It doesn't make a lot of sense, so I give up before long. I purposefully avoid Alice. Her thoughts are a quiet murmur among the others; if she's not panicking I don't want to know what's going through her mind yet. Only after we're settled do I chance a look at her. She's wearing a green sundress, a bit too big on her, and I brace myself before looking up to her eyes.

They're bright red. Her eyes are nearly as dark as Jasper's were when they came to us, but the color is even more shocking on her. I don't let my eyes linger, but the image is forefront in my mind even after I look away. I can't help but remember her reaction to human blood on Jasper just a few days ago; I can't imagine what sort of torture being fed humans added to whatever hell she was already going through. Emmett had hinted at it on the phone, but I'd been sort of hoping he was wrong.

I notice immediately that Alice is letting Jasper sit almost close enough for their shoulders to touch, which seems pretty incredible to me. His mind is a rolling track of strategy and plans, although I can hear the misery and self loathing just waiting to surface. Alice is considering the food Rosalie just took away, hints of an earlier train of thought involving Carlisle appearing throughout. Emmett plays back a conversation between Alice and Rosalie earlier, focusing in on her discussion of how she didn't remember him before. I've heard it in humans, but I had no idea that was possible for Alice, so close to our kind. I guess that explains why I didn't see signs of it in her mind, or at least as many as I should have, she isn't human either.

Carlisle is anxious to check out a few of her visible wounds, but he doesn't want to make a move before she's settled. Rosalie is eying our bags, thinking about how much we must have brought with us. She shows me how Alice looked earlier at the hotel and then now, noting that it was only a few hours ago. She thinks that Alice doesn't need Carlisle anymore. Jasper had mentioned staying together, which seems to her the only reason we're all here.

Everyone is wondering what happens next, but no one is willing to talk about it in front of Alice yet. Under the best circumstances these topics should be breached for another month or two, but with the additional stress it is both more harmful and more necessary to push her to talk. Jasper feels like if we can't get her to tell us about him we can't be prepared for where and how he'll try to take her. He's willing to do anything to keep him away from her, even push her to talk about it now.

Alice surprises us all by being the first to break the silence.

"Can we go back to the house soon?" She seems anxious to leave.

Carlisle takes the chance to try to breach the topic of looking at her wounds.

"Alice, we need to make sure you're stable before we try to travel. How are you feeling?"

She looks away from him immediately, her voice quiet as she mutters that she's fine. She's nervous, her hands playing with a string on the blanket as she looks anywhere but him. The previous thought of Carlisle is resurfacing; she's imagining him hurting her, using his position of authority as an excuse to lure her away from the group. She recognizes that he wouldn't want to hurt her, but she's convinced herself that she's somehow able to draw out violence and control in men, and she's sure that Carlisle wouldn't be immune.

She's intimidated by him, but she's also afraid of what he'll find. She unwittingly runs through a list, probably forgetting for the moment about my presence. I am careful to keep a neutral expression as she pictures the deep purple gashes on her abdomen in the rough shape of letters, followed by the memory of her jaw breaking under his grip. I reexamine the bruising pattern on her face, my expression a studied calm. It certainly isn't as obvious because of the curve of her face, but now that I know how it was created I can see the hand shape there too. I lock my jaw, hoping no one else notices, the only reaction I allow myself.

Next is a series of single, frozen images that remove any possible doubt about the creation of the restraining injuries on her arms and legs. The first few are a bit confusing, as her line of vision is relatively innocuous while her reaction to it is intense. I finally figure out that the legs of the chair I'm seeing are a distraction from her reality. She puts it all together for me in her thoughts a moment later.

Given her memories it's almost certain that she has sustained some... internal... injuries as well, but there's no way she's going to let any of us anywhere near her there, so we're going to have to settle on just hoping that if they're not healing normally, I'll be able to tell from her thoughts. Her emotions and reactions are still slow from Jasper's influence, which is probably why she hasn't made the connection yet that I can hear her. I feel as though I'm eavesdropping, listening in while she isn't censoring her thoughts, but I highly doubt piping up to remind her of my gift is going to be beneficial to her right now.

When Carlisle is sure she isn't going to respond further, he tries again.

"Alice, is there anything that isn't healing well that I could help with?" He's picturing the wounds Emmett described on her abdomen and wondering if they're infected, or on their way to being infected. In her recollection it looked fine, but I wasn't able to determine context, so it's hard to say when that was. Unsurprisingly, she shakes her head.

This isn't going to get him anywhere, and I can see from the three who have seen her wounds that anything she might be willing to let him look at is already healing on its own.

"She's stable. Let's move before we get stuck here, it'll be easier to defend the house."

I know Jasper is anxious to travel, and seeing that she's healing, I agree that it's the best plan. It's the morning, so the commuter vehicles are on the road, meaning we're more likely to get a plane out of here with room for all of us, something that James can't easily track.

When she hears my voice she seems to realize, for the first time, that I'm in the room. She panics, realizing what she's already told me, but I do my best to give her privacy as we begin packing up what we need and cleaning up the hotel room. There's a surprising amount of blood for the short time we've been here. I head down through the lobby and buy some sunglasses from a store down the street to cover Alice's eyes. It's less thorough than we usually are, but we don't have time to be picky.

We're at the airport before the hour is up, after some pretty speedy driving, and tickets are pretty simple to come by for a mid-week flight. We don't have identification for Alice, so she's traveling as a minor. Jasper insisted on posing as her guardian so they didn't split them up. By some miracle, he has a relatively recent driver's license, something I can't imagine him every needing. It lists him as being in his thirties, because it's old, but that fits with Alice being in his care, so it works out. I realize that neither of them has ever been on a plane before from their thoughts.

The terminal is by no means crowded, but the more people wander by the more anxious Alice is getting. Jasper is calming her, some, but it's going to take a toll on him when we get packed into that tiny cab of the plane and she gets more nervous, so I pull a sedative from one of the bags we brought, giving it to Jasper to introduce as an idea. I manage to communicate what it is without her noticing, and after some persuasion, he convinces her to take it. She's in and out for the rest of the trip, but even when she wakes she's calm and detached. It's a bit unnerving, but it's better than any of the alternatives.

We board the plane, her feet dragging behind her as she walks. Jasper puts an arm around her shoulders to help support her. Although her mind flashes around trying to place a familiar memory, the drugs keep any chance of panic at bay. When we get seated, she's asleep again for the next few hours. Jasper hovers, concerned. His thoughts are entirely consumed with her, half of his attention monitoring her as she sleeps and the rest trying to catch up with the last few days and the new reality altering changes that have transpired.

The next time she wakes, a sleepy businessman trips over his feet and runs into her seat on his way to the front restroom. Jasper and I both see it coming, but in a plane full of witnesses, we can't do anything in time without drawing attention. Jasper puts his arm on the top of her chair to stop him from falling on her, but that's the best we can do. She wakes up with a jolt to a strange man falling toward her, not ideal in any situation, and before he has time to register his fall she's fit herself into the space in front of her seat between her seat and the next, shaking violently. I've been trying to give her privacy in her dreams, focusing purposefully on the people around us, but it's like trying to listen to the radio in the background with someone sitting next to you screaming in terror, it's a bit difficult to concentrate. I hadn't heard any nightmares recently, so her reaction might be simply to him.

Jasper tugs her back up to her seat as the man eyes her strangely, apologizing halfheartedly and continuing on his way to the restroom. She's still upset, so Jasper pulls her close to him, a risky move that turns out to be the right one as she lays her head on his knee and curls up, falling back to sleep quickly. I imagine the position must be uncomfortable on her face, but as I examine it further I see that the swelling seems to have gone down even more since we arrived. She's healing fast, physically that is. When this James character is ashes we can work on the rest.

* * *

Smallest Jasper POV ever... but I had to put it in there... he just demanded it :)

As always, thank you for your support and for sticking with me. Thank you for the new follows and my old faithful reviewers. I looooove you all :)

Amanda


	45. Stitches

****Well, here it is, the loooooooong awaited next chapter. Seriously, if any of you guys are still reading this, you're the best. As always, I'm not giving up on this :)

Love you all.

manda

* * *

**Chapter 45**

*_*_*_*Jasper*_*_*_*

Other than her concern when she figured out that she'd missed Edward's entrance into the room, she's doing pretty well assimilating the others. She has yet to really react to anything, other than a few flashbacks. I don't know if it's my influence or just stubborn refusal to think about it, but it seems to have served her reasonably well so far. She reacted oddly to Carlisle, but they weren't exactly close before all of this, so that doesn't concern me. After the plane incident she slept the rest of the way back to Washington. We got her through customs and the airport without too much trouble, although I was shocked at the ease with which the humans accepted us carrying a still-wounded supposed minor through the airport. She was in an accident a few weeks back, that's what we're telling them, and they just buy it. It's odd.

Only one person has given us a second look, although some of that is instinct kicking in. A woman in the terminal, probably only in her early twenties, was concerned. She saw the marks on Alice's face, one of the few still remaining, and her eyes went to my hands, as if she was judging whether I could have caused them. I don't know what she decided, because when her eyes met mine I made sure that her fear shut down any further lines of logic. I'll have to ask Edward later how much, if anything, she'd figured out. It seems odd to me that a random person, and just one, would have that suspicion where all of the others didn't feel even a moment of uncertainty in accepting our story.

Now, finally, we've made it back to the house. I've been on edge since the moment we left for that ill fated hunting trip and I feel as if she's out of the line of fire for the first time in days. I know that we can't afford to let down our guard, even here, but I feel much better about our chances in a house full of vampires than I do in a hotel where we have to worry about pretenses, especially against an enemy who has ignored secrecy rules before. It puts us at an unacceptable disadvantage to have to fend him off, act human, and convince away his reckless behavior as well. The last thing we need is the Volturri showing up.

Alice is asleep upstairs in her bed. She's slept a long time, but as long as she's fed also, I imagine it's probably good for her. I'm hoping that it'll speed up her recovery. An injured target is much more difficult to protect than one at full capacity. I'll also be able to breathe a little better when I'm sure that she really is going to heal.

We've set up a watch and we're taking shifts running parameters. It seems like the only way to be sure. Carlisle has taken time off of his job and all of them are out of school for some made-up exotic virus that isn't too big of a deal but is extremely contagious. Their homework is being sent to the house, as if it matters, and we're all sticking close to the house and Alice.

Now that she's back at the house, things are different. She hasn't talked to anyone, not even me. She just sits up in bed staring out the window. Edward told me she's watching for James. I'm hoping some of this closed off approach will fade as she heals, but I know that it's deeper than that. I feel the warring emotions but I'm powerless to help her.

I'm too lost in my thoughts to care that the footsteps are getting closer until there's a gentle knock in the door. I glance toward Alice, asleep on the bed, and then back to the door. I don't want anyone in here, it's our sanctuary of sorts, and I don't want Alice to wake up to anyone else in here. I'm about to tell whoever it is to go away, but the voice isn't who I expected.

"Jasper, could I talk to you?" Carlisle has kept his distance thus far, but I feel like I should hear him out if he wants to talk to me about something, he is a doctor after all. I glance between Alice and the door, trying to decide. Finally I get up, resolving to make it to the other side of the wall, but no further.

I open the door quietly, closing it behind me and leaning against the wall.

"Could we have a seat in my office?"

It's only two rooms away, a few more walls, but I don't want to be away from her unnecessarily and I'm keeping her asleep right now, so I decline.

"Alright, here is fine too. I wanted to talk to you about something, would that be alright?"

I nod impatiently, wanting him to spit it out so I can get back to Alice.

"I'm afraid that Alice is still in shock."

I agree again, having had the same thought.

"I'm afraid your gift is keeping her there."

That one I didn't see coming.

"Explain."

"When the mind goes through trauma like this, it tends to shut down emotional centers to get through difficult and necessary decisions, it's a survival mechanism. When she has the option of staying in a forced calm, she'll never have to reexamine her responses or really feel what she needs to in order to face this ordeal and start to work through it."

"I don't understand." I think I do, I just don't like it.

"You have to let her hurt or she'll never start to get better."

"Like hell I do."

"This isn't an opinion, Jasper, it's a psychological fact. The longer she hides behind your artificial calm the longer it will take her to come to terms with what happened to her and begin to heal. You're encouraging her to stay in a sort of stasis. You think it stops her from hurting, but it's actually stopping her from healing. It could lead to her repressing it again, forgetting it all and being haunted by it in dreams and her subconscious. It would be like before, but multiplied with even more ammunition. She may never get over it if it happens again. She could begin to dissociate, and with the mental energy it takes to keep up all of those walls and with enough time, of which she probably has an infinite amount, she could eventually lose all touch with reality."

"You're telling me that using my gift on her to keep her calm is going to make her go crazy?"

I can see that he's unimpressed with my summarization skills.

"Possibly. What I'm saying is that your gift is keeping her in an artificial state of shock. She needs to come out of it and face what happened to her. If you keep this up it's going to hurt her, one way or another. She could repress or dissociate, but she could also become permanently handicapped without you, never able to leave your influence for fear of facing herself without it. I know that you want her close to you, but can you imagine if your mate was unable to face even the simplest everyday task without you? Surely you see how crippling your ability could become to her?"

Mate. There was that title again. It seems to be a common theme today. I don't recognize myself around her, and I can't explain it by any act of my will. She… draws me, I suppose, in a way that I've never experienced before. I don't bother to correct him, knowing that if such a thing exists, it probably does apply to us.

I had no idea that trying to take away her pain could hurt her. I have to add it to the remarkably long list of things I didn't know I was doing wrong.

"I get it. I can't help her all the time. How often am I allowed?"

"The less you interfere, the better. She needs to process, to feel, to get upset. This is going to be hard for you, Jasper, but except for very rare occasions, you need to try to let her emotions run their course."

This sounds miserable. I manage a nod, hoping to all that is holy I can handle this. I glance up at him one more time, trying to gauge if there is anything else he came to tell me.

He nods once to himself, seeming to be finished with the conversation. I nod back halfheartedly, turning back to her door. This is going to be hell.

Carlisle

"Alice, I need you to tell me if anything hurts, alright?"

She nods noncommittally, but it's more than she's interacted with me directly since she returned to us, a few days before.

"There's still a pretty deep bruise in your arm and I'm afraid that your lack of nutrition is stopping your body from healing. Can you tell me if it still hurts?"

She shakes her head, turning to look out the window. Jasper shifts in the seat next to her bed, trying to get her attention to see if she'll accept comfort from him, but she ignores him entirely. She's been hot and cold with him since she returned, but with the possible exception of Rosalie, she's been just cold to everyone else, so he's the best chance we have of interacting with her at the moment. She'd barely moved in the days she'd been at the house, refusing to eat and barely sleeping. We'd tried to move her room when we figured out that she might be able to see the spot she was taken from out the third story window, but she wouldn't be moved, so we had to leave her and hope for the best.

"Alice, you're still bleeding internally. It's been days and I need to fix it. You don't have a lot of choices, I need to do an internal exam and try to patch you up."

"I want you to leave please."

Her first words spoken to me were underwhelming at best.

"I can't do that, Alice. You could easily bleed to death without proper care and you're not letting me give it to you. Forcing those wounds to stay untreated for any longer will likely cause infection, if it hasn't begun already. If it gets infected I will have to intervene. If I don't do anything to fix you up you could have an incredible amount of scarring. I know you don't want to hear this now, but it might matter to you later. It could also result in incorrect healing, meaning that it's likely that the next time you have sex all of those wounds would be reopened. I know you don't want to think about this right now, but someday you might and I don't want that experience to be any more difficult than it will already be."

Her eyes flashed to mine and I felt my own widened in surprise. She hadn't looked me in the eye since she'd gotten back, and I have the feeling I'm about to hear more than a few words from her.

"You want me to let you touch me so that you can fix me up, right? How do I know you're not just like him? I don't want anyone near me. I probably never will. What do I care if he breaks open old wounds while he's making new ones? If I have to worry about that again I'm dead anyway, he'll finish me off."

My eyes shift between the sincere defeat in her voice and the agony in Jasper's expression. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to gather myself for both my newest son and my newest daughter. She is his mate, there was no doubt in my mind now, but they have a long way to go. I can't imagine how deeply it cut him to hear those words from her.

"You're not going back to him, we won't let that happen. I wasn't talking about being with him, you won't be again. I know it seems impossible right now, but someday you'll heal and move past this. Someday you might want to be in a sexual relationship willingly with someone who makes you feel safe and loved. At that point I want as little of this nightmare to follow you into that relationship as possible. Alice, I know that this is uncomfortable for you to think about, but I'm a professional and would never do anything to make you feel threatened. I need you to let me do my job."

"No. Just leave me, please. I'm fine, I made it before."

"I'm hesitant to suggest this, but I want you to know your options. I could give you something to help you sleep; you wouldn't have to be awake if you didn't want to."

Her incredulous expression told me exactly what she thought about that idea, but she answered verbally anyway.

"Let me get this straight. You want to knock me out so you can 'fix' me by rooting around down there? So I'm going to be unconscious. What are you going to be doing? No thank you."

"Jasper would be with you the entire time if you wanted him there. He would never let me hurt you, would he? I know you don't trust me, but you can trust him."

"No. I won't do it."

I wasn't sure if her answer was to the question of trusting Jasper or a second negative response to my idea. It was easy to tell which way Jasper interpreted it.

"Then we can do it with you conscious so you and Jasper can keep an eye on me. I won't take advantage of you, Alice; you're like a daughter to me."

"No."

"Alice, please. He just wants to help you and I won't leave you. You're not healing now; I can smell the blood on you nearly constantly. Do it for me, please, I just want you to get better."

Jasper's plea obviously carried more traction than my own and I saw her considering it, seeing in Jasper's face that her emotions were less than pleasant.

"She'll do it." He translated, and although she shot him an angry look, she didn't argue.

"Thank you, Alice; it will put us all at ease to know that you're healing properly."

She ignores me, her eyes having taken a rather desperate expression and her focus solely on her mate.

"I need you to change into something looser. I don't exactly have a hospital gown here, but a nightdress should do fine. I'm going to step outside, you can ask Jasper to stay or go, and it's your decision."

I stood, leaving the room and closing the door behind me. I made a quick trip to my office for my medical bag while I waited, listening to the soft rustling of clothing. I couldn't help but dread the upcoming procedure, I can't think of a situation in which it goes smoothly and doesn't result in her liking and trusting me less at the end. I sigh, it isn't my place to coddle her, it's my job to make sure she's safe and healthy, I'm doing what I have to do, just like everyone else in the house.

"She's dressed." Jasper informed me, and I wonder if she allowed him to help her with her limited range of motion. The idea seems unlikely, but I hope that she did. I push the door open, taking an unnecessary breath to steady myself and hiding behind my professional mask. I sit down beside her bed, her eyes following me with suspicion as I put on sterile gloves.

"I'm going to walk you through everything I do before I do it, okay? I'm not going to hurt you on purpose and I won't touch you more than is absolutely necessary, okay?"

She doesn't respond- just stares back at me with the same icy expression of distrust. I have to remind myself that I'm doing this for her.

"Would you like Jasper to turn toward your face?"

He does before she can answer, but her eyes stay on me.

"I'm going to move your nightdress now. Please don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

I pick it up gently, careful to avoid direct skin contact. She shivers violently and I can tell that it's not from cold.

Jasper reaches for her hand, but she yanks it away from him, both hands moving to make fists in the sheets next to her.

"I need to touch you now, I'm sorry, there's no other way. I need to feel the depth of the lacerations to tell how serious of a fix this will be. It will almost certainly hurt and I apologize for that. Can I give you something for the pain first?"

"No."

"Could I apply a topical anesthetic?"

"No. I want to know exactly what you're doing to me."

Her blatant distrust cuts like a knife, but I manage to nod, tucking away my response for another time.

"Take a deep breath for me, Alice. I need you to focus on exhaling slowly. I'm going to touch you now but I'm not trying to hurt you."

Her terror is barely masked in the angry glare she is sending me. I wish that she trusted me enough to comfort her, to know that I mean it when I say I don't want to hurt her, but at the moment the best I can do is try to get this over with. I wish for the millionth time that I could just take her to the hospital and let someone else deal with it, someone she'll never see again, maybe one of the female nurses, but I know that with her unusual genetic makeup there is no chance that I can do that.

I work as efficiently and professionally as I can, quickly feeling several deep cuts. She stays quiet, but the tears running down her cheeks and the death grip on the sheets give away her pain. My gloves are quickly covered in her blood, but after a quick glance to Jasper's back I decided that he's in control for the moment. I apply an antibiotic gel liberally, knowing that I might not get another chance. There is a deep tear on the left side that won't heal well on its own; the others should be fine if we can get anything solid in her system. I swallow back an overwhelming sorrow, she's stronger than a human; he had to have been excessively rough with her in such a short amount of time. With her rate of healing it is even more alarming that he managed to create such deep and lasting wounds. I can't imagine what kind of a monster could do that to Alice.

"I need you to take this, Alice, I can't get around that. I need to put in stitches and I'm not going to do that without any sort of anesthetic. They'll dissolve on their own, I won't need to take them back out, but I'm going to put on a gel to help numb as well. I'm afraid that neither of us have a choice in this matter, I won't do it while you can feel it, it'll be agonizing."

"You won't do it at all. I've played nice so far but you're not getting near me with a needle."

"I have to, Alice. There is a tear that won't heal naturally. It'll get infected, almost certainly, and be incredibly painful in the future. It'll only get worse, it can't heal like this, you have to let me do this- it's the only option."

"Come on, Alice, you've made it this far. Take the pill and let him work, you'll still be able to see what he's doing."

"Jasper… please…" She reached for his arm and he let her, the relief showing even in the set of his shoulders.

"I'm right here, Alice, but you need to let him finish." He held his hand behind him and I placed the white pill in his hand. "Here you are, just take it, it'll be over soon."

She swallowed it obediently and I watched the muscles in her calf, waiting for them to relax slightly before I knew it had started to take effect.

"I'm going to put this gel on your skin, it's a topical anesthesia, nothing more, but I need to touch you again. Take another deep breath for me. Thank you. Now focus on breathing out slowly, look at Jasper if it helps you."

I apply the medicine, unable to imagine the level of pain she must be in. It works almost instantly, so I reach for my bag and change my gloves, preparing a suture. I feel her eyes on me so I try to keep the needle out of her view.

"You'll feel the pressure of my touch but you shouldn't feel pain. Please tell me if it hurts, I'll stop and we'll fix it."

She still doesn't respond, her haunting stare fixed on me. I take a deep breath of my own, working as quickly as I can. I monitor her heart rate for pain, but it's hard to tell with her fear so palpable in the air- her heart is racing. She is silent, so I do my best to finish, closing the tear with two more stitches and tying off the thread. I apply more antibiotic and she flinches again, even though I'm pretty sure she can't feel the sting.

I remove one of my well bloodied gloves and pull the hem of her dress back to her knees.

"You made it, Alice. You're okay."

She doesn't respond again, her watery eyes still fixed on me and her right hand fisted in Jasper's sleeve.

"I want to look at one more thing, if you would allow me. It's best if we get it all out of the way now, especially now that you have some pain meds in you. Can I see the cuts on your midsection?"

She started to shake her head but Jasper's expression must have been imploring.  
"Make it quick."

"I'm moving your dress again but I'll cover every area I don't need to see."

I put on another set of gloves and pull a blanket from the end of the bed. I lay it over her legs and pull her dress out from under the blanket, careful to keep her as covered as possible. I make sure the blanket covers her from the waist down before I move that part of her dress, laying it carefully on her rib cage to get it out of the way. Her eyes have gotten misty again but she is still glaring at me.

"This is another antibiotic."

I pulled out a small container and unscrewed it, applying the lotion while touching her skin as little as possible.

"None of this is infected yet. There are a few places that could use stitches but don't require them. Could I-"

"No."

"Very well. I'm going to put this over the area to keep the antibiotic on there. When you shower you need to replace it, I'll leave you the antibiotic as well as other bandages so you can do it yourself."

Her expression doesn't change, but her eyes drop to watch what I'm doing. I finish bandaging, noticing the black and blue of her ribs on both sides.

"One more thing, I promise. I'm going to touch your sides; I need you to tell me if something hurts more than the rest. I think at least one of these ribs is broken or fractured. Just tell me if something feels worse, I think you'll feel it through the meds."

I start on the left side near the top of the area I had uncovered. The bruising wasn't as bad there and the shape of her ribs seemed fine. She didn't make a sound or change her expression, so I went on, carefully pressing into the next rib with no response. A single touch of the next rib caused a grating, shifting sound and I didn't need to see her expression to know that one wasn't in place. I grab the medical tape, moving my hand into place to force it back carefully.

"Deep, careful breath. This is probably going to hurt, but it needs to be done. I'm glad you took that medicine earlier."

I slowly brace the rib with one hand, pushing it firmly with two fingers, mindful of how delicate her bones are at the moment. She screamed, her body trying to twist away from my hands. I release her quickly, moving to hold her still by pinning her hips to the bed, my hands over the blanket, mindful of her injuries nearly everywhere else. If she moves too much she can push that rib into her lung or heart, she needs to hold still more than she needs to be happy with me or trust me.

"Alice, I'm sorry, I know that hurts, but it is imperative that you hold still. Jasper, I need you to hold her shoulders flat against the bed. We won't hurt you, Alice, but if you move you will hurt yourself. This needs to go perfectly or these ribs won't heal correctly."

I can't see her face past Jasper leaning slightly over her, but I can see the tremors of fear shaking her.

"I'm going to leave my arm here to stop you from moving, but I'm only going to work on that rib. You're safe, I know it doesn't feel like it, but we've got you, we're just trying to make sure you don't hurt yourself more."

I can hear Jasper's attempts to comfort her, but I know she won't be alright until we can let her up. I right the current rib and move on to the next, trying to ignore the whimpering that is rapidly spiraling into sobs. She'll never forgive me.

I find three more that are dislocated or broken and tape them as quickly as I can, working with one hand slowing me down considerably.

"I'm finished. I'm going to let go of you, I still need you to try to hold still. Can you do that for me?"

She doesn't respond, her sobs continuing pathetically. I pull her nightdress down over her knees again, leaving the blanket in place as well. Jasper releases her shoulders and she pushes him away from her, trying to roll only her side only to find herself stopped by my hand, an action I don't relish taking, but she will dislocate all of the broken bones again if I don't.

"You can't lie on your side right now. Jasper will back off if you want him to, but you have to lie on your back for a little while. That pain reliever is going to make you sick to your stomach if you don't eat soon. I'm going to send someone up with something for you, please eat so that you'll heal correctly on your own. I don't want to have to treat something again as it obviously causes you discomfort. Eat at least this meal so you don't feel miserable."

I throw the current gloves in the trash, gathering my bag without looking back at her. I think I've done more than enough damage to our potential relationship for one day.

I head for the kitchen, finding Esme already finishing a meal for Alice. She's been making them three times a day, even though Alice never touches them.

"Thank you, love. Can you take it to her and meet me in our room?"

She kisses me chastely on the cheek. There is concern in her expression, but she doesn't ask, not yet.

"Of course, darling."

I climb the stairs slowly, emotional exhaustion making me feel old, despite my immortality. In a few more moments she appears, shedding her shoes and joining me on the bed. She reaches over to me, pulling off my shoes as well, and then my belt and tie, unbuttoning the cuffs of my shirt and rolling them up.

"There you are, angel, I'm here with you. What happened?"

"You heard, I'm sure."

"I had the blasted grater on for most of that, dreadful machine, it's terribly loud. I heard almost none of it."

I hadn't noticed the sound, focused as I was on Alice, but now that she said that I remembered hearing it.

"Did she look like she'd eat something? She needs to with the pain meds I gave her."

"Jasper agreed to eat half if she finished her half."

"Unpleasant, but I guess if it works I can't argue."

"That was my thought exactly." She giggles quietly as I nip at the arm she'd thrown over my face playfully. Her voice lowers again, her tone serious. "What happened in there?"

"It was awful, Es." I pull her onto the bed next to me, burying my face in her lap, my lips at her navel. I kiss her gently.

"Did you help her?"

"I'd like to think so, but I'm probably not right. That monster hurt her so badly. She's been bleeding for days; I had to stitch up an internal tear. You can imagine how well that went. It wouldn't have healed any other way. The distrust and suspicion and outright hostility are agonizing. I would never hurt her, but she won't forgive me for what I had to do to help her. She had so many dislocated and broken ribs. I had to get them back into place and tape them, but she kept moving. We had to hold her down, Jasper and I. She was terrified, no matter what either of us said to her. She'll forgive him. I don't think she'll forgive me."

"She'll see in time that you only did it to help her."

"I don't know if she will. She distrusted me before she was taken, and it only got worse when she came back. This might be the last straw, lover."

"You're a good father, Carlisle, she'll come around. She just needs some time. Let her come to you, she'll realize it sooner or later."

"I hope you're right."

"I always am."


	46. Blood Lust

So I actually think this is the longest chapter yet- thanks for waiting! I think I'll get to update a little more now. For those of you who missed the note, there's a bit of a curve ball coming up in a few chapters (didn't realize I hadn't posted this one yet!). It's not game changing in terms of the tone of the story, but it does make the one-shots more of an alternate ending. You'll see. Just don't be mad at me, I found inspiration because I promised I wouldn't give up on the story, but it drew me a different direction than the ending I had been planning. Thanks for sticking with me, I love hearing from you all.

* * *

**Chapter 46 **

***_*_*_*Alice*_*_*_*_***

I cover my ears, cowering back in the corner. The noise is deafening, as if the world were collapsing around me, and then it's stunningly silent. I venture an eye open to find Jasper, perched on top of a large chunk of the ruined cement. He's holding his hand out to me, blood and venom covering his skin, but he isn't coming any closer. I know that he won't push me, but I'm afraid of what started this mess in the first place.

"Is he… gone?" I ask, my voice wavering more than I wish.

"Yes, I took care of him. He won't be bothering you anymore."

I get up slowly, making my way over to the rubble and to him. I put my hand in his and he smiles at me. It's then I notice that his eyes are red. Before my very eyes, my hand still in his, his face transforms and I'm hand in hand with James. I try to pull away, but the harder I pull the tighter he holds. I hear myself screaming as everything goes black. I realize that I'm still screaming when my eyes open to the starlit room, my ribs screaming back in protest.

As I calm my breathing, I see Jasper subtly slip out of the room. If I didn't know what I was looking for I would have missed him, but even when he isn't supposed to wake me up he's always here. He knows sometimes I need to be alone after, so if I don't reach for him he'll leave. I can't have him now, not with the image of him shifting to James in my head, but as always he doesn't seem offended.

I think about time passing. I don't know how long it's been since we got back to the house, days and nights, flashbacks, visions and nightmares are the same to me, but it's not just me who has changed.

The dynamics around the house have changed, since we arrived home. I have a lot to sort through, but it seems that everyone else does too. I think they all knew they were getting into something big when I first reacted to Rosalie and Jasper fighting, the first few minutes they knew me, but I guess none of us really knew what all was going on. Now, they're doing the same 'go back and reexamine memories to see them make sense' that I am. I'm not remembering the missing dreams from the days before I was taken, but I imagine they were of him. Even when I deny myself visions in my conscious hours, I can't shut them down as I sleep and they get woven into my subconscious' imagination of dreams. Some of it is past and present and the future is woven throughout. I keep track of them for that reason, but I doubt I'll miss any more now that I've allowed myself to remember him.

It's hard to say who else is more haunted by my return; it's probably a close call between Jasper and Edward. With Jasper there's always more below the surface, and although I care about the others, I'm willing to admit that Jasper is something different to me. I think he considers me the same way, because he's been too quiet lately, spending all of his time strategizing, sometimes with the others and other times alone. When they get sick of hearing it from him, he continues on his own, plotting and playing out scenarios in his head.

Edward is also been hit hard, even though he wasn't there when I was found and he isn't the same to me as Jasper is. Every scene he missed in Canada has been replayed for him in triplicate and he has the added burden of hearing the details right from my mind in thoughts, dreams and flashbacks. Although I hear he and Jasper argue about it, he leaves sometimes to get away from it all. I feel terrible that I'm driving him out of his own house, but he assures me that he had to get away every once in a while even before we came and all of this happened.

Carlisle is probably the most unchanged. He's a doctor and used to dealing with horrific situations, I guess, and after that examination from hell he went back to his routine around the house, doing his best to act like nothing happened around me. Although it looks professional, I think it's just as much hiding as any of the others. I hear Esme crying in their room some nights and I know that she is only putting on a brave face for me. She mothers and cooks and comes upstairs just to brush my hair and hold my hand but she's hurting too. Jasper told me what she'd shared of her past to him and I think she's remembering her own nightmare. Carlisle is always there with her when she's upset, and it gives me hope that I might be able to have someone like that, even after what I've done. Esme hasn't done the things I have to survive, but if she can find love, maybe she might be able to teach me to deserve it also.

Emmett has occasions of his normal cheer, but he's more subdued than he was before. He still plays around and tries to lighten the mood, but he gives up easily these days. Rosalie continues to insist on our training sessions, altered now that she knows what I'm up against. Every once in a while they take off too, and when she comes back she seems better. I can tell when an outing is imminent because she gets quieter and quieter. Not much bothers her, but I know this does. I wouldn't have caught it before, but I now that I know what to look for I see it.

I feel as if I'm the sun and the rest of the house revolves carefully around me, as if I might break if it were any other way. Every word within my hearing range is carefully chosen and every plan is made around me. The attention is just about driving me mad, so most days I spend at least part of the day holed up in my room, willing everyone to just act normally for a minute.

I know that may be hypocritical, given my present condition, but every time they tiptoe around me it just reminds me how fragile I am. I watch out the window, the dawn, the clouds, the hazy glow, the stars, the first light showing through again and then sometimes I sleep. I don't give in until I can't stay awake any longer. The flashbacks are bad, but if I stay in my room and everyone leaves me alone I can usually avoid them. The nightmares are worse because I can't control or prepare myself for them.

We've heard nothing from James in however long we've been here, and as time passes the atmosphere is starting to shift again. Jasper is vigilant as ever, sure that this is a ploy to get us to let our guard down. I think I agree, although I find it hard to care too much. On the opposite side of the spectrum, Carlisle is starting to think that he might not come back at all, that he was bluffing and now he's moved on. Poor naïve Carlisle; always looking for the silver lining. There isn't one, not on that monster. He's a tracker with eternity to obsess, he's coming back, and I've never doubted it a second.

The visible wounds have healed into angry scars, the worst the clearly visible letters across my lower body. Only Esme hasn't seen them and I'm sure Carlisle gave her some idea after the impromptu checkup. I wish I hadn't seen them, but I can't close my eyes forever.

I've spent days in such wildly different states of mind that sometimes I don't recognize myself. I get these ideas in my head of how to fix myself, fix all of us, and I can't get them out until I try them. I've pretended nothing was out of the ordinary, a short and fruitless phase, followed by ignoring everyone and trying to convince them to move on and leave me for him. For almost a week I tried to seduce Jasper, hoping that if his hands were on me they would somehow erase James'. For such a primal being he was much stronger willed than I expected, I suspect Edward may have informed him of my plans. More than once I caught him off guard, seeing his eyes flash black and his instincts take over, but before he would so much as touch me he'd pull back, usually leaving the house and leaving me alone to plot how to do better.

When I gave up on that, I had just about lost all hope. If not ever Jasper thought I was attractive and worth anything I didn't have any reason to put everyone through all that with James. I crawled up onto Emmett's lap, the wild animal and the teddy bear. I was closer than I'd ever been to him so none of the others would hear, and asked him to die. I knew Edward wouldn't and Jasper would be mad, having made the request of him before. Carlisle and Esme are too timid of souls and Rosalie would berate me for giving up, so I asked the only one I thought I had a chance with.

He rocked me back and forth, holding me so tightly I thought I was going to get my wish, but then he carried me up to Carlisle, telling me that he could help me get through it. I didn't want to get through it, so I went back to my room alone. Jasper was there in seconds, begging me to believe that he'll take care of me and protect me, that I have something to live for. I dreamed of dying that night, and after I took my last breath I was transported back in time, back to James and Victoria and Laurent. James told me that he'd won me; that I'd given up and now he had me forever. I decided when I woke up that even if it was only a dream, I wasn't going to take my chances.

I spent a day and a half lashing out at everyone, finding anything I could to make them snap. I was physically healed and I couldn't stand that everyone looked at me as if I was well again. I tried everything to make one of them lose it and hit me, the pain familiar and something I could deal with. No one took the bait, not so much as yelling back, and I resigned myself from that phase early.

I stopped speaking for a while, which deterred Edward not one bit from translating aloud everything I did and didn't want communicated to the rest of the family, so that was short lived. I found and devoured all of the donated blood Carlisle had brought back from the hospital to ensure my wellbeing. My eyes had been starting to fade and even though I couldn't bring myself to kill a human, even if I were ever allowed out of the house alone, I had to remind everyone who looked at me that I was still the monster I felt like inside. My blazing red eyes did little to affect anyone but me and I resolved not to attempt that again, and even if I hadn't, the supply was never replenished to give me that opportunity. I even altered most of my wardrobe to be revealing and inappropriate, wanting to look the whore that I felt. No one even responded, just like the other times, and eventually I was too uncomfortable to continue.

I made more crazy attempts at getting my life back, but nothing ever made me feel any different. I hid and flaunted, screamed and was silent, sobbed and raged and refused to acknowledge anything had happened, I glutted myself and then starved it back away and nothing made the disconnect in my head find peace. Finally, I went back to my old standby. I hadn't kept much weight of my time with James because of the time I spent recovering afterward, but I lost the rest of it and more. It was my tried and true method, the only way I could feel in control and I didn't need a reaction from anyone else in order for it to make me feel better. It was my own drug to numb me to the real world and I took it like my life depended on it.

Minutes, hours, days, maybe weeks are passing; I can't tell the difference and I don't care to. Time seems to pass relentlessly. I know he's coming back, and until he does, I can't let my guard down. He can't catch me vulnerable. The only real activity I've allowed myself are the short sessions with Rosalie, she's enlisted Esme's help as well. She assures me that now that she knows what I'm up against, she can do more to help me. I don't know if I actually believe it, but it makes me feel like I'm doing something about my situation other than sitting here as bait.

Truthfully, they don't last long anyway. I get dizzy and black out at sudden movements, so it doesn't take long before she sends me up to bed. I don't mind that either. I know why it's happening and it means that I'm in control.

I think she knows too, but everyone still treats me as glass, so she won't say what she's thinking. She doesn't understand; I get it. She's never wanted so badly to be able to disappear that she fights the most basic instinct of eating to stay alive. She told me last session that she planned on enlisting Edward into my training sessions next week. It sounds awful, but I don't have it in me to argue.

Sometimes I just lie on my bed and stare at nothing; I don't know how long these sessions last because it doesn't matter. I watch the world sway lightly as I settle and then fix my attention on the dancing shapes just outside the focus of my eyes. I can hold completely still and stare at the same ceiling tile but the black dots dance on, a graceful ballet of control and denial.

Rosalie comes for me again, to bring me downstairs to their odd set up. She hands me a drink, a thick gross looking concoction that tastes vaguely of chocolate and mud. She's made me drink one before we train for the last several times. It chases some of the stars away, which I like and hate. I can't really tell anymore. We stretch, go through our warm ups, and then she leaves. This is new. I stare after her for a few moments before the door opens again. Edward. I had forgotten. I forget a lot of things these days.

He's wearing a dark colored undershirt and gym shorts. He's barefoot, all in all a fairly equivalent outfit to Rosalie's. I don't know what she's thinking. I'm not ready for this. He takes a step toward me and I step away before I give myself permission.

"She's thinking that James is a hell of a lot more terrifying than me. You know me, Alice."

I think I actually flinch at the name. I don't say it, don't think it. My hand goes to my middle without my permission. His tone is quiet. It's supposed to calm me down. It doesn't. I take another step back before I even register that he's moved toward me.

"Alice, you can't keep backing away from me. There's a wall behind you. Stand your ground; you know I won't hurt you."

I know that outside, real life Edward won't hurt me. I have no such assurance from here in this room Edward. Rosalie and Esme make me do holds. Edward might do those. I can't do this.

He's wearing less than I'm used to. I can see the ribbons of lean muscle in his arms and shoulders and the solid build of his calves. I can much more accurately assess his build in his current attire. He's smaller than _him_, which makes him faster. It negates any chance of an advantage I have with my size. He's much stronger than me, even if build alone was the factor, and he's fully vampire, which means build is the least of my concern.

"You know me, Alice."

I shake my head. I know him out there. I don't know him in here, alone with me. I don't know him in defense classes where he has to touch me. I don't know him when I'm wearing this… thing that I hate.

He drops to a knee, but somehow that seems more threatening. He holds a hand out to me. It doesn't make him look less about to pounce.

"Alice. Come here."

I shake my head.

"We're going to do the second half of your stretches again. Nothing else yet."

I don't believe it.

He stands and closes the distance between us in a fluid motion. I shriek, the speed startling me, before he pulls me to the middle of the room by my wrist.

I yank my hand free and he releases me, faint blackness appearing at the edge of my vision as my breathing spikes. He sits and I follow suit, cautiously. We're repeating the second half because those are the ones Rosalie or Esme helps me with. We're doing them because that means he has to touch me. I can't do this. His hand hangs in the air between us. I can't do this. His attention makes me feel vulnerable. My exercise outfit makes me feel naked.

"It's me, Alice. You're safe."

I don't believe him. I have no choice. He can make me if he chooses. We can't leave until Rosalie is satisfied. She won't be unless I cooperate. I stretch my legs out in front of me and then pull them to the sides as far as I can. Vulnerable. I reach for his arms and he grabs my wrists before I can change my mind. He pulls me lightly forward, probably coached by Rosalie on our stretches. Maybe he always watches in her mind. I freak myself out with that thought, trying to yank my hands away from his, which doesn't work.

"Edward-" My voice is choked in my ears.

"No. I don't, Alice. She showed me today. I leave you alone when you're in your lessons. Everyone does."

He releases my wrists and watches me expectantly. He is waiting for me to continue. I don't want to. I have no choice. I stand, but as I put one arm behind me I can see that it's shaking. I don't want him behind me. He knows that.

"I do. We have to work on it, Alice; it can't be like this forever."

I close my eyes against the blurriness of my vision. I don't want him to see it, even though I know he hears me. I start when I feel his cold hand on my wrist, but I try to pull away when his other hand touches the back of my shoulder to steady it. I turn, I have to see him, I can't have him behind me.

"Am I doing it wrong?" He asks, knowing the answer. Rosalie does the same. It's different when it's her. This dress is form-fitting and sleeveless. That part of my shoulder isn't covered. He can't. I can't have him touch me. I can't see him. I can't do this.

"Yes you can."

He doesn't make me turn away from him, he walks behind me again. It isn't better. He hadn't released my hand and pulls it back again, his other hand bracing my shoulder. I try to pretend it's Rosalie. I can't. Her hands are smaller, less calloused. I'm accustomed to her hands on me. His radiate difference, warning, fear, and I can't pretend. He releases my hand and reaches for the other. I am tempted to try to snatch it away, but I know I can't. His hand is on my other shoulder. The cold is seeping into my skin. It feels like poison. It hurts like the Alaska house. James is behind me. Oh God, James is here. I yank my arm back as he releases it; the force probably would have wretched it out of socket if he hadn't been expecting it. I use the momentum to turn and duck; he'll hit me for resisting.

"Alice, it's Edward. Still Edward." My eyes fall on his. Gold. I follow the lines of his face. It's not James.

He offers a hand to help me up. I ignore it and stand. He offers his hand again. No. I won't do the last one. He quirks an eyebrow at me, indicating the door where Rosalie was almost certainly standing. She wouldn't let me leave. He catches one wrist, leaving his hand open. I shake my head. The cold is spreading again.

"One more."

"No."

"Alice, she won't let us out until we've done everything on her agenda."

"I want her in here then."

"She can hear you. She won't come, but she's right there. We're not alone."

He could tell me whatever he thinks I want to hear; I have no way of verifying his words. For all I knew Rosalie and Emmett had gone off again. For all I knew they were the only ones in the house.

I try to step away, but he still had one of my wrists.

"You know that's not true. Esme is in the kitchen. Rosalie is right outside. Emmett is in the garage. Jasper is in the yard. They would all hear you if you needed them."

I hate it. I have no way of knowing if he's telling the truth, but I also know I can't make a run for it. Whether or not Rosalie is right outside, I can't leave this room until Edward lets me. I have no choice. I offer him my other wrist.

He holds them in one of his hands and I blanch, even though I know what he's doing. He pauses long enough for me to regain my bearings. The light is hitting his hair just wrong, it makes it look too light, almost blond. I blink and it's James. I blink again and it's Edward.

"You're okay." He assures me. I'm not, but I have no choice. I nod. He closes the distance between us in a step that puts him only inches to my left and my lungs forget how to function. My heart is racing in panic, I can't do this, but I have no choice. I shake my head in denial.

"You're okay, Alice." He repeats, reaching an arm around the other side of my waist, but not touching me. He's too close. The pale skin of his arms shimmers slightly, even in the artificial light, and every muscle is too sharply defined. His scent is different, but I shouldn't be this close; danger, my mind screams, and I have no choice but to ignore it.

"Just breathe. You're okay." He pulls my hands over my head and then down toward the floor behind me, his other hand moving to brace my lower back. The movement puts him too close. I can't breathe. James has my hands above my head. I can't escape. He's too close. I can't scream; my throat won't work. I'm paralyzed with terror and I know that I won't escape him a second time. I try to twist out of his grasp and his hand on my back shifts to keep me stable, pulling my hands back until I'm standing again and releases me.

"J-James-"

"No."

My eyes fix on him again. Edward. I hate this. I'm shaking. I can't do this. It took me a week before I would even let Rosalie do that stretch, and only then because she insisted that flexibility was one of my strongest allies with my build. I feel dirty. I can feel his hands on me, spreading frost and poison. I wrap my arms around myself to ward off the cold. _Whore._ Oh God he's right. I let him touch me. Another set of handprints on me. I feel so dirty.

"Rosalie, she's done."

I don't hear the answer, but I see his frown.

"She can't."

His features darken and I step away. He doesn't seem to notice.

"Come in here and tell me that again." I hear the anger in his voice. I'm not safe.

I stumble and I can't catch myself without turning away from him, which I can't do. His gaze shifts with the movement and he catches me in a flash, his hands on my arms. I can feel the handprints. I can't wash them off. I let him. He moves his hands when I'm stable. His eyes flash again, turning back to the door. My hands cover the marks only I can see. They're permanent. I sink to my knees. Edward is growling. My heart drops to my stomach. I'm going to die. He's yelling something, but I don't hear it. I have to get it off of me. I rake my nails across the infected skin, I have to get it off of me, he can't be right. I hear the door click open, but no other movement. I can't. I have to stop it. I repeat the motion. I have to get him off my skin. The blood covers it; I don't have to see it. They're not moving. I lift my eyes enough to catch them, have to know where they are. Rosalie and Edward are frozen in the doorway. His eyes are black. Hers are dark. Neither is breathing. Their eyes are on my arms.

Stupid. I'm so stupid. I stood, backing away. I'd just made myself dinner. Maybe more to Edward. His eyes were so black. James never just drank. He'll use me and drain me when he's done. I'll be covered in handprints. Too many more. Edward took a step to reclaim the distance between us, but Rosalie caught his arm, neither of them looking away from the blood still forming small rivers down my arms.

I can see his arm flexing in his sister's hold. He's going to get free. She's too distracted trying not to attack me herself. She'll either attack too or run to try to keep her composure. He's going to attack me. The demon demands it.

His lips curl into a smirk that makes my blood run cold. He yanks his arm free in a split second and Rosalie breaks out of her trance, lunging for him but too slow. A step toward me fixes her eyes on the blood again and she turns from the room. She had to run or attack. She's choosing to run, which is safer for me, even though it doesn't feel like it. I watch him blur across the room. I can't stop him. I stand completely still, frozen to the ground. His eyes are pitch black. The demon is loose. I was foolish to fear Edward before. The demon inside him is much more dangerous. The end won't be that bad. At least it isn't James.

I don't hear the other footsteps. I don't even realize there is another in the room until someone is suddenly between us. Edward collides with his solid form, the momentum driving them both back into me. He throws his arm back to try to absorb some of the blow, but most of their combined weight lands on me. He shoves Edward away from us, rolling the other way to release the pressure on me. His eyes rake over me in a fraction of a second. His eyes are dark too, but not black. He turns his attention back to Edward, who is running at him again.

There's an odd sensation settling over me. The marks are gone for a second and I try to breathe a sigh of relief, but I find that somewhat impossible. There's a strange warmth covering me, filling my mouth and wrapping around my consciousness. I hear more voices and then everything fades to a fuzzy silence. I recognize the feeling, fading consciousness, but it seems to normally be accompanied by extreme pain. I search for it and realize that I actually am in a dizzying amount of pain. Strange.

A face appears in my vision and I cringe. No. I don't want Carlisle. I want Esme, I want Rosalie. I want Jasper. He reaches for my face and I turn away from him. His eyes are gold, not even a tinge of darkness. I don't understand, how can he hurt me with such light eyes? My hearing returns in a roar and I close my eyes as if to compensate.

"I need you to hold still. Please don't fight me, Alice; I'm trying to help you."

I try to shake my head, but I find myself unable. I can feel his hands on me. More fingerprints. I shudder, which seems to upset something that sets off a whole new category of pain. I want Esme.

"Es-" I try, shocked by the odd gurgle of my voice. My lungs burn in protest. Everything hurts.

"She can't, Love. The others can't be around all of the blood." The endearment turns my stomach. I can't do this. I'm shaking and it's making everything worse. I open my eyes in time to see his gaze fall on someone else. He rises into a defensive stance, his eyes wary.

"Jasper, leave her. You shouldn't be here."

"I won't hurt her."

"Your eyes are dark."

"Not from that. Carlisle, don't stand between us."

"I need to help her, Jasper. I lay no claim to her. Let me do my job."

"I won't attack her."

"You did before you came."

"Exactly. You only do it once. Her blood is wrong."

I reach toward his voice. I need him. He can make the handprints go away. He takes another step closer to me, growling low in his throat when Carlisle doesn't stand down.

"You're too close to her to fight me. I need to do this, Jasper, let me work."

"Let me by and you can work. I can feel her, she's not afraid of me. She's terrified of you. It's causing her further injury."

I can see in the sag of Carlisle's shoulders the he hears the truth. He stands down and Jasper comes to my side, falling to his knees and pulling one of my hands into his.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm safe if he's here. Carlisle watches him closely for a few moments before accepting the truth of his earlier words, he won't attack me.

"She's hemorrhaging, can you hear it? I think the blunt force trauma crushed several ribs into internal organs. She's strong, but the starvation is weakening her bones. She can't heal from this fast enough unless we act fast. Rosalie!" He called, knowing she couldn't enter the room again.

"I need my medical bag and an IV. Leave them outside the door." I don't hear motion, but at some later point Jasper stands and I whimper. He disappears for only a moment, reappearing with several things he leaves by Carlisle and comes back to sit by me. Carlisle touches my side and it feels like it explodes. My world goes dark.

I wake in a different room. My room has a while plaster ceiling. The makeshift room has several additional layers of drywall to set a false ceiling lower than the actual one. This room has arched wood paneling leading to a high arc of glass.

I try to turn my head, but find it impossible. I try my hand and find the same. I'm tied down. Oh God. James. Screaming won't help me now, but I can't stop the crying. I'm terrified.

Jasper appears and I could cry with relief.

"Hey." His smile is light and somewhat forced, but it sets my world right. At least until I remember that I'm still tied to the bed I'm lying on.

"Jasper, I can't move." My voice is more panicked than I intended. I hold my breath. What if he put them there?

"Yeah, sorry about that. You were hurt pretty bad and you seemed to be dreaming. Couldn't let you hurt yourself. Should be okay now though."

He reaches for the bindings and pulls them free and I sit up too fast. He catches me as the pain and dizziness pull me back down.

"Slowly, Darlin'. You've been out for three days. Carlisle kept you drugged to sleep it off. Figured you needed to heal on your own."

"Edward…"

"Yeah, I know. They're all okay now, it won't happen again."

"How do you know?"

"You only taste your blood once, Alice. It's wrong. It smells right, but it tastes wrong. It's what saved you that first time right when we met."

"I don't understand."

"I had Carlisle draw blood from you when you were strong enough. I made them all try it. They get it now, it won't happen again."

I try to process that information. I can't. They've all tasted my blood. It's too intimate. I can't help the shudder of revulsion. Even my blood is dirty. I can't be clean again. I finally hear his words.

"It happened again with James."

His eyes darken.

"James didn't continue to feed from you off of thirst."

That didn't make it better. His bloodlust was inextricably tied to his other lusts, and Jasper had just given my blood to… whom? To all of them? I didn't realize I'd voiced the question until he answered.

"Except Carlisle. He works around blood constantly. His control is fine, he didn't need it."

"Oh God. I think I'm going to be sick."

I cover my mouth, fighting back the nausea. Jasper's eyes are confused, as if he truly sees nothing wrong with his words. I feel alone. They all did it, which means that none of them understood. Jasper is different. Now he isn't. James, Laurent, even Victoria, several strangers, Jasper, and now all of them. _Whore_. Yes. I accept it and put it from my mind. I can't explain this to him, he won't understand, and apparently the others won't either. I have to put it out of my mind and deal with it later. I'm sure it'll make an appearance in my nightmares, I'll leave it to my unconscious consideration.

He helps me stand and we go back to our room. I make him take me to the window sill. He tells me I shouldn't be there long, that I should lie down again, but I don't listen. I have to see him coming.

"The bruises are still healing, although the rest of the internal damage seems to be mended."

I hadn't realized Carlisle had entered the room. I also hadn't realized that he'd touched me. I'm slipping. I turn away from the window.

"Alice, you were remarkably lucky that Jasper managed to break their fall."

I don't feel lucky. I don't answer. At least he hasn't tasted my blood. It seems to make him a minority in the house.

"You'll feel easily winded for another day or two and the bruising will likely stick around for another week at least, but you're going to be fine."

I nod noncommittally. I don't really care. He speaks to Jasper for a few more moments before he leaves us again.

"Alice, I'm sorry. I should have insisted on this sooner."

He doesn't see the wince, but he probably feels the emotion behind it. I have to be more subtle by spades if I expect to avoid a conversation about it.

"You got there in time. That's all I really needed."

"I should have been sooner. If I had gotten to him a second before I could have changed his direction enough. You would have been unharmed."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does. I shouldn't have let Rosalie lock him in there with you when I knew you might bleed."

My eyes flick down to the barely noticeable white lines of healing skin on my arms. The black marks were still there, his handprints frozen into my skin. I shiver.

"It's fine. I have to learn sometime." I don't really believe it, but it seems like the right thing to say. I know that Edward wouldn't normally hurt me. I realize that he probably feels awful, Rosalie too. It makes me more than a bit nervous, but I realize that I should probably go find them. I never know what day James might make his reappearance. I don't have the luxury of waiting until I'm ready to approach them, I wouldn't want that to be the last image I have of either of them.

"I have to see Edward and Rosalie. I'm sure they feel awful."

"You don't have to yet."

"Yes I do."

I ignore his protests and head downstairs, my personal shadow accompanying me uncertainly. I reach for his hand and he calms. Rosalie is sitting on the couch in the living room. I let go of his hand. She doesn't move as I approach, finally looking up at me when I'm standing right in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I should have listened to him sooner. It's my fault, not his."

"It's okay. It's not either of your fault, it's part of who you are. I can't hold it against you."

"You can and you should. It was stupid and reckless."

"You did it to try to help me get over all of this. It's okay. I don't really have time to take this all slow."

"I'm really sorry anyway."

I nod to her and she stands, reaching out uncertainly to hug me. I brace myself and allow her. She holds my shoulders, probably mindful of my injuries.

"I'm so glad you're okay." She whispers. We pull away and she ghosts one hand over my side. I can tell that she's picturing the injuries I have yet to see.

"I'm fine, Rosalie. I've survived worse."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, judging by the growl behind me and the upset expression on Rosalie's face. I had almost forgotten Jasper was out of my vision… almost. I turned quickly at the sound, making sure to have both of them in my vision. He realized his mistake immediately, smoothing his expression and holding his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. I take his hand again cautiously and he sighs in relief. Rosalie smiles sadly, excusing herself to go find Emmett. I can tell that she's still upset, so it seems like a good idea. Emmett can fix anything with Rosalie.

"Where is Edward?"

"Outside. He hasn't come back in the house since it happened."

I feel I tinge of guilt, despite its irrationality. I drove Edward out of his own house.

I urge Jasper to lead the way and he does so reluctantly. I can see the stiff set of his shoulders and the change in his walk. He told me that none of them would be a threat anymore, but his instincts remember being attacked by the other vampire. He radiates guard and violence and I have to let go of his hand. He doesn't fight me on it, leading me out the front door and around the house into the woods. We walk for only a few minutes before we come to a clearing that is obviously new. Trees and undergrowth are torn from the earth and thrown around like matchsticks, some of them broken in several places.

Edward is sitting in the middle of the clearing, the same clothing from our session, although torn in several places. He's still barefoot. I shiver before I can get a hold of myself. I can feel his hands on me, see the marks, and I shove the thought away. The marks that caused the tears in his clothes are long gone, but they're easy to imagine. I'm suddenly relieved that I'm not currently touching Jasper. Edward is fast and strong, but he was obviously no match for him.

I take a step toward him but Jasper catches my arm. I flinch because I didn't expect it, although my previous line of thought hadn't helped, and I barely see the hurt in his expression before he hides it.

"Edward."

I eye him questioningly, but Edward starts slightly.

"Never approach one of our kind unannounced when they're like this. He didn't hear us coming. He could have attacked you again without realizing it."

The _again_ in his statement did nothing for my confidence. It apparently had a similar effect on Edward; his shoulders seemed to slump impossibly more.

Jasper stays at my side as I approach him, stopping a few steps to the side of him, only a fraction of a second away from being between us if necessary. A shiver runs through my body. Despite his reassurances, he doesn't entirely trust Edward.

I stand a few feet in front of him, but he doesn't raise his eyes. I sink slowly to my knees on the mangled the forest floor, a significant distance below him because he's sitting on the felled trunk of a rather large tree.

"Edward?"

He doesn't move. I scoot slightly closer, ignoring the reproachful look from Jasper.

"Edward, please talk to me."

His eyes are haunted when they lift to mine. They're dark amber again, but I can't help but see them flash black. He blanches when he sees it in my mind and I frown in apology, shoving the thought from my mind.

"No, that isn't your fault. I'm so sorry, Alice. I had myself away from you. I should have been strong enough to run like Rose was."

"I lost track of my surroundings. I should have been more careful not to bleed around you guys. Although I guess that's taken care of now." I did my best to keep the bitterness out of my voice, but his raised eyebrow indicated that he heard it in my thoughts. I shake my head slightly.

"Yeah, it is." He agreed, a shame on his face unrelated to the original incident. Apparently he hadn't considered that it might upset me when he'd agreed to Jasper's plan either. It was fine; at least it happened when I was out.

"I want you to come back to the house. I'm okay and so is everyone else. I just want things to be normal."

"Alice, I can't…"

"Yes you can. I want you to. Just come, please. I can't be responsible for kicking you out of the house. Besides, we're not done training I'm sure."

This drew a reaction from both men. The hiss from Jasper was sharply cut off when I reached my feet quickly and stepped away from him, but I'd also moved to put more distance between myself and Edward when he stood to voice his dissent.

Both backed down, although Edward didn't sit again.

"You can't be serious."

I wasn't really sure I was, but given my reaction to him that day it seemed I still had a long way to go.

"I am. I still need it, and if I can't handle you then I can't move on."

My voice is steadier than I feel, but I need a way to move past this event, and pretending to continue like normal is my desperate grasp at actual normalcy. He sees in my thoughts that I need this and his resolve seems to waiver.

Jasper doesn't dare outright refuse on my behalf, although I can see that it's an idea he's still considering.

"Come back to the house." I take up an earlier line of plea to distract from the controversial one, and it seems to work. He nods dejectedly and turns toward the house, Jasper placing himself firmly between us for the short walk to the house. I follow them back, returning immediately to my window. Everything feels too clear. I refuse dinner, despite hating to see Esme's hopeful face fall. They must have been feeding me somehow when I was out, and I have to find the haze I had before. The sun sets and rises the next day. I start to drift again, this is what I need.


End file.
